(Richard Bradley) Image and Audience Rethinking P PDF

I M AG E A N D AU D I E N C E
Frontispiece. Carvings of ships and animals at Himmelstalund, Sweden. As in other

illustrations of Scandinavian rock art, the images have been painted in order to
display them to the public
Image and Audience
Rethinking Prehistoric Art
R I C H A R D B R A D L EY
1
3
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For Mark Edmonds
Preface
I wrote my Wrst article about prehistoric art in 1989 and others have followed
over more recent years. In 1997, I brought some of my ideas together in a
book Rock Art and the Prehistory of Atlantic Europe. During almost two
decades my research has led me from Britain and Ireland to the Iberian
Peninsula and then to Scandinavia, but during this time my interests have
broadened from an initial concern with rock carvings and megalithic tombs
to the decorated artefacts of the same periods. I have never felt comfortable
with the use of the term art to describe so many diVerent phenomena and
have become increasingly aware of the diYculties involved in their study. Both
those diYculties and some of the ways of resolving them are considered here.
Although there have been many accounts of prehistoric art, nearly all of
them begin by making the assumption that the concept is a useful one.
Because they take the existence of ancient artworks for granted, these studies
pay little attention to the contexts in which they were made and used. It is
only in accounts of Palaeolithic painted caves that a more rounded approach
has been taken, yet even here there is a tendency to publish catalogues of
attractive images without much discussion of their wider signiWcance. Either
the painted or carved designs are treated as suYcient in themselves, or they
are studied for the light they might shed on early cognition. Perhaps that is
understandable because the archaeological evidence from this period is other-
wise quite limited.
The problem becomes more serious in accounts of later prehistory. This is
rather surprising, for not only were natural places embellished in the ways
that had already happened during the Palaeolithic period, the earliest archi-
tecture seems to have developed at this time. Again there has been a tendency
to treat certain objects or images as a self-contained Weld of research. The
academic and popular literature is dominated by catalogues of drawings and
photographs and by analyses of individual artefacts which take little account
of their contexts. Again that has happened because it is assumed that prehis-
toric artefacts can be treated as works of art. Such studies take place in a
vacuum, and as a result archaeologists scarcely use this evidence in their
interpretations of the past.
There are several ways in which to break the impasse. The Wrst is to
question whether art is a useful term in studies of prehistory and whether
the methods of modern art historians have much to contribute to accounts of
such a remote period. There are two reasons for adopting this position. We
Preface vii
can investigate the circumstances in which prehistoric art was Wrst identiWed
and the ways in which it emerged as a distinct Weld of study. That happened
during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries through the activities of
museums and private collectors. Its recognition followed a similar process
to that of primitive art, and in each case it seems possible that particular
artefacts only assumed the status of artworks once they had been removed
from their original settings. The kinds of material culture treated as prehis-
toric art are normally those that were made with considerable virtuosity, yet
there is no justiWcation for selecting the most complex examples from what
was really a continuum. The same applies to decorated monuments or rock
formations. Again those with the most arresting visual patterns have domin-
ated the discussion, and superWcially simpler designs have been overlooked.
Another approach is to integrate this material into a more ambitious
contextual archaeology in which these phenomena are studied in relation to
the places and circumstances in which they were used in prehistory. Thus
decorated metalwork can be studied in relation to funeral rites and votive
oVerings, and decorated monuments in relation to the people who performed
their rituals there. It is rarely possible to infer the meanings of ancient images
without the help of written evidence, but it may be possible to investigate the
relationship between the designs that were created and displayed and the
audiences who encountered them. That is the premise of this book. It seeks to
redirect studies of prehistoric art so that they can be better integrated into the
methods of contemporary archaeology.
The book is concerned with later prehistoric art rather than the well
researched images of the Palaeolithic period. It is divided into four parts,
each of which is directly related to the approaches taken in an inXuential
publication. It is also structured around two substantial case studies, one of
which considers a tradition which includes some non-Wgurative or abstract
designs (megalithic art), whilst the other considers the more naturalistic
images of the Scandinavian Bronze Age. The introduction and conclusion
also draw on the well-known evidence of Celtic art, but it does not provide a
major focus for this account. The text is not limited to the complex artefacts
that are usually described as prehistoric art but also discusses the evidence of
ancient architecture, rock paintings, rock carvings, sculptures, and even
geoglyphs, as well as the designs on ceramics, metalwork, and other artefacts.
Although the detailed case studies consider the period between about 4000 bc
and the mid Wrst millennium bc, the text will include material created over an
even longer period of time. It will be concerned primarily with the prehistory
of Western and Northern Europe, from Portugal to Finland, but will draw
more selectively on examples from Central Europe and the Mediterranean.
The concluding chapter will also consider the relationship between current
viii Preface
approaches to prehistory and some of the concepts employed by contempor-

ary artists.
The book is in four parts. The Wrst is divided into two chapters and
introduces the main theme of the book. Chapter 1 questions the basic notion
of prehistoric art and discusses the circumstances in which it became a
separate Weld of study in Europe. It discusses the arbitrary manner in which
certain kinds of material were included within the canon whilst others were
rejected. It also suggests that particular objects have been treated as prehis-
toric art because they have been divorced from their original contexts. That
theme is developed in Chapter 2 which discusses the approach proposed in
Alfred Gells inXuential book Art and Agency. Rather than discussing the
aesthetics of artworks, he emphasized their eVects upon the viewer. Gells
study was a contribution to social anthropology and documented the active
role that art plays in non-Western society. Prehistorians cannot do this, but
they can study the interplay between the kinds of images that were created in
the past and the audiences that are likely to have encountered them. That idea
is developed in the remaining sections of the book.
Part II is a study of megalithic art. This material is distinctive for two
reasons. This tradition of painting and stone-carving is deWned not by stylistic
criteria but by the contexts in which those images occur. It is partly abstract.
The starting point for Part II is the recent book Inside the Neolithic Mind by
David Lewis-Williams and David Pearce which reconstructs a prehistoric
cosmology on the basis of stone-built tombs and the images found within
them. By treating megalithic art as a distinctive phenomenon archaeologists
have failed to appreciate its broader context in prehistoric society. Chapter 3
introduces Lewis-Williamss and Pearces hypothesis through a discussion of
the origins of megalithic tombs. It pays particular attention to their contro-
versial hypothesis that some of the imagery associated with these monuments
referred to altered states of consciousness. Chapter 4 considers the evidence
that certain of the decorated stones found inside these monuments originated
as statues in the open air. When they were broken up and built into the tombs
their signiWcance changed, and so did the audiences who could have viewed
them. Chapter 5 compares the nature and distribution of the images found
inside megalithic tombs with those on exposed surfaces within the wider
landscape. To what extent were some images regarded as public and others as
private? Did the audience for paintings and carvings change during the
currency of megalithic art, and how far did some of those designs extend
into the domestic domain through the embellishment of portable objects and
even the decoration of houses? These studies bring together the results of new
research on chambered tombs from the West Mediterranean, the Iberian
Peninsula, France, Britain, Ireland, and Scandinavia.
Preface ix
Part III considers images which are united by a common style but which
were created in several diVerent media. In contrast to the main groups of
designs in megalithic art, the visual culture of the Scandinavian Bronze Age is
predominately Wgurative. It extends from decorated metalwork to the embel-
lishment of burial cists and the drawings on rock outcrops. Here the starting
point is Flemming Kauls book Ships on Bronze which proposes a new reading
of the designs on the metalwork of this period which show boats, horses, Wsh,
snakes, and the sun. Chapter 6 introduces the images that were created in
three diVerent media during the Scandinavian Bronze Age: decorated metal-
work, rock carvings, and stone settings. Chapter 7 summarizes Kauls inter-
pretations of these pictures in relation to the movement of the sun through
the sky during the day and its passage beneath the sea at night. It extends his
analysis to the carved rocks of South Scandinavia and discusses the extent to
which the same concerns were expressed in that medium. It also considers the
organization of cemeteries containing stone ships and other monuments.
Chapter 8 suggests some new ways of thinking about this evidence in relation
to more general ideas about fertility and death. It attempts to integrate the
results of artefact analysis with studies of the ancient landscape, and in doing
so it considers who was making the rock carvings and the ways in which these
images were used during prehistory.
Part IV, which consists of one long chapter, discusses the interpretations
put forward in the book and reXects on their implications for prehistoric
archaeology. It suggests that the most productive way of studying the images
described as prehistoric art is to consider how they diVered from the
artworks of the twentieth century which they helped to inspire. Although
the meanings of ancient designs will often remain elusive, the contexts in
which they were eVective are sometimes ones that archaeologists can recon-
struct. Chapter 9 reviews the argument in Colin Renfrews book Figuring it
Out: The Parallel Visions of Artists and Archaeologists, which considers the
relationship between archaeology and contemporary art. The notion of arte-
fact biographies which has had so much inXuence on prehistorians has its
counterpart in Conceptual Art. Installation Art is founded on similar prin-
ciples to the displays of ancient objects like those associated with Iron Age
burials, sanctuaries and votive deposits. They are among the contexts in which
prehistoric art has been discovered.
So the discussion returns to some of the ancient objects introduced at the
beginning of the book. If the argument has any merit, they will have taken on
a new signiWcance.
Acknowledgements
Although I wrote this book in a year, I have been thinking about it for more
than a decade. During that time I have been inXuenced by many people who
have talked about their ideas, discussed my research in conferences and
seminars, and have shown me many fascinating sites and artefacts. They are
too numerous to mention individually, but I thank them all. I owe a further
debt to the archaeologists who have already worked in this diYcult Weld. Most
of them feature in the bibliography, although I have been able to cite only a
small proportion of the books and articles I have read in recent years. That
I have been able to study sources that are not widely available is due to the
kindness of their authors who have sent me copies of their publications. At
certain points the text also draws on the results of Weldwork I have undertaken
with other people, and it is right to name them here: Ramon Fabregas
Valcarce, Aaron Watson, and Dag Widholm. Most important of all, I could
not have written this without Katherines patience and support.
I have been helped by many people in bringing this project to completion.
A number of colleagues have read all, or part of, the text and have provided
very useful suggestions, many of which I have adopted here. I wish to thank:
Dr Lara Bacelar Alves, Professor Bob Chapman, Professor Ramon Fabregas
Valcarce, Dr Sara Fairen Jimenez, Dr Joakim Goldhahn, and Dr Peter
Skoglund. Dr Tony Mathews, Emilio Rodrguez Alvarez, and Evi Riikonen
helped with the bibliography, and Elise Fraser played a major part in the
preparation of the text. The Wgure drawings were prepared by Frances Taylor,
Margaret Mathews, and Aaron Watson. Unless otherwise stated, the photo-
graphs are my own. The sources of the other figures are noted in the list on pp.
xiixv. Every attempt has been made to seek the permission of the copyright
holders, but in a few cases this has not been possible. The omission will
rectiWed if more information becomes available.
Lastly, the dedication. Not many archaeologists share an interest in con-
temporary art, ancient artefacts, and the prehistoric landscape. One of the few
is Mark Edmonds, who has inXuenced my work and been a source of
encouragement ever since we worked together in the Weld over twenty years
ago. This book is dedicated to him and celebrates his recent appointment to a
chair at the University of York.
Contents
Figures xii
Tables xvi
PART I. THE PROBLEM WITH PREHISTORIC ART

1. The Division of the Spoils 3
2. Pattern and Purpose 26
PA RT I I . I M AGE AND AU D IENC E IN MEGA LITH IC A RT

3. Notes from Underground 51
4. The Lives of Statues 77
5. In Open Country 98
PA RT III. IMAGE AND AUDIENCE IN BRONZE

AGE S CAN D I NAV IA
6. Ships on Bronzes: Ships on Stones 125
7. Crossing the Water 150
8. The Origin of Fire 176
PA RT IV. PREHISTORIC ART AND ARCHAEOLOGY

9. Losses in Translation 203
References 235
Index 257
Figures
Bronze Age rock carvings at Himmelstalund, Sweden ii

1. The Battersea Shield. Photograph courtesy of the British Museum 20
2. Bronze Xagon from Basse Yutz. Photograph courtesy of the
British Museum 21
3. The Gundestrup Cauldron. Photograph courtesy of the National Museum,
Copenhagen 23
4. Distribution of paintings of animals at Font de Gaume. Information
from Ucko and Rosenfeld (1967) 32
5. Paintings of animals in the Palaeolithic cave of Ekain. Information from
Leroi Gourhan (1965 and 1982) 32
6. A Late Bronze Age house urn. Information from Bartoloni et al. (1987) 36
7. A Trobriand canoe prow. Information from Gell (1998) and Campbell
(2001) 37
8. Dragons on the Chertsey Iron Age shield. After Fitzpatrick (2007) 39
9. Decorated attachment on an Anglo-Saxon shield. After Dickinson (2005) 40
10. Two Pictish cairns at Lundin Links and a symbol stone from Logie.
Information from Anderson (1881) and Williams (2007) 43
11. Map of the sites and regions discussed in Part II 52
12. The distribution of megalithic art in Western Europe 53
13. Two carved stones from Ireland interpreted as evidence of an
eye goddess. Information from Breuil (1934) and Crawford (1957) 54
14. The organization of the painted designs at Antelas. Information from
Shee Twohig (1981) and Jorge (1998) 58
15. Passage grave at Anta de Cerqueira. Photograph courtesy of Lara
Bacelar Alves 60
16. The Xow of light within chambered tombs 61
17. The movement of light and the decorated surfaces in Cairn T at Loughcrew.
Information from Bradley (1989) 62
18. Carved designs in the tomb at Goerem. Information from Bradley (1989) 63
19. Female imagery in two north French chambered tombs. Information
from Shee Twohig (1981), Tarrete (1996), and Villes (1997) 64
20. A passage grave interpreted as evidence of a three-tier cosmology.
Information from Lewis-Williams and Pearce (2005) 67
Figures xiii
21. Phosphenes apparently associated with megalithic art. Information from
Bradley (1997a) 68
22. The entrance stone at Newgrange. Photograph courtesy of Ken Williams
(copyright reserved) 69
23. The interior of the passage tomb at Newgrange. Photograph courtesy
of Ken Williams (copyright reserved) 75
24. Ceramic Wgurine of the Cucuteni-Tripolye Culture. A reconstruction using
information from Gheorgiu (2001) 78
25. Decorated menhirs incorporated in Breton megalithic tombs. Information
from Shee Twohig (1981), LHelgouach (1996), and Cassen (2000) 81
26. Reused menhirs in the chambered tomb of Mane Lud. Information from
Shee Twohig (1981) and Cassen (2007) 82
27. The organization of decorated elements in Iberian passage graves.
Information from Bueno Ramrez and Balbn Behrmann (2006b) 85
28. The decorated tomb at Azutan. Information from Bueno Ramrez, Balbn
Behrmann, and Barroso Bermajo (2005a) 86
29. Stone idols from Galician megalithic tombs. After Fabregas
Valcarce and Vilaseco Vazquez (2006) 87
30. Decorated plaque from a Portuguese megalithic tomb. Information from
Goncalves (2007) 88
31. Carvings of human Wgures with weapons in Iberia. Information from
Chenorkian (1988), De Blas Cortina (2003) and Bueno Ramrez, Balbn
Behrmann, and Barroso Bermajo (2005b) 90
32. Statues menhirs in the southern Alps. Information from BarWeld and
Chippindale (1997), Mezzena (1998), and De Saulieu (2004) 92
33. Statues associated with a megalithic tomb at Sion. Information from
Mezzena (1998), Bradley (2002), and Harrison and Heyd (2007) 94
34. Symbolkeramik from southern Spain. After Martn and Camalich (1982) 99
35. Decorated plaques from Vila Nova de Sao Pedro. After Paco (1940) 100
36. Linear designs associated with Neolithic houses, artefacts, and tombs in Orkney101
37. The repertoire of Iberian Schematic Art. Information from Acosta (1968) 106
38. Painting inside Pala Pinta. Photograph courtesy of Lara
Bacelar Alves 107
39. The location of the decorated cave at Morro Carascal. Photograph
courtesy of Sara Fairen Jimenez 108
40. Carved decoration on Ben Lawers. Photograph courtesy of Aaron Watson 113
41. Two views of a decorated outcrop on Ben Lawers. Photographs courtesy of
Aaron Watson 116
xiv Figures
42. Interior view of the main passage tomb at Knowth. Photograph courtesy
of Ken Williams (copyright reserved) 121
43. Angular and curvilinear designs and their links with megalithic art 122
44. Map of the sites and regions discussed in Part III 126
45. Distributions of decorated razors, rock art, and ship settings in Southern
Scandinavia 127
46. Two ships, as depicted on a decorated Bronze Age razor 128
47. Carvings of ships at Himmelstalund, Sweden 132
48. The decorated outcrop at Revheim, Norway 135
49. Carved ships and Xowing water at Tanum. Information from Milstreu
(1999) 136
50. Rock carvings and quartz veins at Tanum. Information from Milstreu
(1999) 137
51. Motifs from burial cists in Sweden and Norway. Information from Fett
and Fett (1947), Randsborg (1993), Jellestad Syvertsen (2002), Nordenborg
Myhre (2004), and Figenschou Simonsen and Vogt (2005) 138
52. Distribution of the Northern and Southern styles of Scandinavian rock art 140
53. Bronze Age ship setting at Snackedal, Sweden 143
54. Bronze Age ship settings on Gotland. Information from Capelle (1986
and 1995) 145
55. The Trundholm Sun Chariot. Photograph courtesy of the National
Museum, Copenhagen 152
56. Kauls interpretation of a Bronze Age solar cosmology. After
Bradley (2006) 154
land
57. Interpretation of the decorated stone from Klinta, O 155
58. Interpretation of a decorated outcrop at Borgen, Norway 156
59. The movement of ships in Scandinavian rock art. After Bradley (2006) 158
60. The movement of carts in Scandinavian rock art. After Bradley (2006) 159
61. Drawings of footprints in Southern Scandinavian rock art. After Bradley
(2006) 160
62. Footprints and wheel crosses in Scandinavian rock art. Information
from Burenhult (1973 and 1980) 162
63. Sea, land, and sky in Scandinavian rock art. After Bradley (2006) 163
64. Sea, land, and sky, and the coastal location of rock carvings. After
Bradley (2006) 164
65. The relationship between ship settings and round cairns. Information
from Nordenborg Myhre (1998), Widholm (1998), and Bradley and
Widholm (2007) 167
Figures xv
66. General view of the Bronze Age cemetery at Snackedal, Sweden 169
67. Plan of the Bronze Age cemetery at Snackedal. Information from
Bradley and Widholm (2007) 170
68. The association between ships, weapons, and the sun at Himmelstalund 172
69. The relationship between rock carvings, cairns, and the movement of the
sun at Hogsbyn. Information from Bradley (2007c) 174
70. A small island in the Stockholm archipelago 179
71. The coastal distribution of cairns in northern Sweden. Information from
Baudou (1968) and Bolin (1999) 180
72. The hilltop siting of a Bronze Age cairn in southern Sweden 182
73. Burnt patches on the decorated outcrop at Himmelstalund 184
74. The relationship between rock carvings and the shoreline near Tanum.
After Ling (2007) 187
75. The siting of rock art and cairns in relation to the Bronze Age coastline
near Tanum. After Ling (2007) 188
76. Trails of carved footprints at Jarrestad, Sweden 190
77. One of the decorated panels at Hasthallen, Sweden. Photograph courtesy
of Lena Konig 193
78. Paired footprints at Himmelstalund, Sweden 196
79. The orientation of paired footprints in Bohuslan, stfold, and Uppland.
Information from Coles (2000 and 2005) 197
80. Timber structures and associated deposits at La Te`ne. Information from
Bradley (1990) 212
81. The Copper Age decorated cave at El Pedroso, Spain 223
82. Iron Age sanctuary and associated deposits at Gournay-sur-Aronde,
France. Information from Bradley (1990) 229
83. The ship burial in Mound 1 at Sutton Hoo. After Carver (2005) 230
84. The Iron Age burial chamber at Hochdorf. Information from Planck,
Biel, Susskind, and Wals (1985), and Olivier (1999) 232
Tables
1. The frequency of diVerent artefact types classiWed as Celtic art in

six publications of British material 18
2. The frequency of diVerent artefact types classiWed as Celtic art in
six publications concerned mainly with Continental Europe 19
Part I
The Problem with Prehistoric Art
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1
The Division of the Spoils
T HAT S EN SAT I O N O F AC CO RD
The category of prehistoric art has seldom been deWned. It is a task that
inhibits even the most conWdent writer. Consider this passage from one of the
best books on the subject. The author is obviously uneasy about the relation-
ship between Western art and ancient material culture, but, as he begins his
account, he puts the problem from his mind:
Art is a term too readily borrowed in archaeology to explain things from the far past
that are not obviously utilitarian. But every scratch and mark is not art any more than
need be the most elaborate, costly, or curious, objects of devotion and display. On the
other hand, many straightforward appliances of daily life, mere tools and vessels, by
virtue of their stark simplicity, their aptness for use, positively draw out that sensation
of accord which is the recognition of art uniting the modern beholder with the maker
however far apart in time and space. No closer approach to a deWnition of art will be
made here. (Powell 1966: 7; my emphasis)
Similar sentiments can be found in a book published two years later:
The study of prehistoric art allows, if it does not actually demand, a much greater
freedom than does prehistory itself. There is in the nature of the subject and the
monuments an absence of classiWcatory machinery, a lack of deWnition, a something
ambivalent, in addition to the usual, and quite shocking, barrier of distance and decay.
(Sandars 1968: xxviixxviii)
Such uncertainly is not conWned to these pioneering accounts. Thirty years
after Sandarss study was published, Paul Bahn made another attempt to
characterize prehistoric art. Although his style is more assertive, the hesitation
remains:
Art can be a deliberate communication through visual form, a message expressed in
durable form, an expression of group mentality and of an artists inner world. Art is
art, regardless of the diVerence and variety of its meaning and function, regardless of
qualitative or aesthetic appreciation, and whether it be prehistoric, Greek, Assyrian or
anything else. (Bahn 1998: xiii)
4 The Problem with Prehistoric Art
It remained for Colin Renfrew to oVer another deWnition, but, he warned,

it was one that might have little relevance to the past. For Renfrew a work of
art was:
Any painting or sculpture or material object that is produced to be the focus of our visual
contemplation or enjoyment. It is implicit in such a deWnition that the work does not at
the same time fulWl some other primary purpose . . . We are ethnocentric if we apply our
own concept of art to the products of other cultures and eras. (Renfrew 2002: 66)
It follows that if the word art is to be used at all, it must be treated with caution.
Since no alternative is available, from here on the reader must imagine that it is
enclosed by inverted commas.
There can be no dispassionate view of prehistoric art, because the choice of
this term already makes assumptions about the past. That has always been
true. It raises a number of questions which are considered later in this chapter.
How was prehistoric art Wrst identiWed? Which categories were admitted to
the corpus, and which were excluded? How were ancient artefacts treated by
archaeologists, collectors, galleries and museums? Why was there so little
interest in their original contexts?
Perhaps the most important discussion of ancient art took place in Palaeo-
lithic archaeology over a hundred years ago. It is with those arguments that
my account begins.
AUT H E N T IC I T Y A N D A RT
Nineteenth-century discoveries of what has become known as Palaeolithic art

took two diVerent forms. There were the paintings and engravings found on
cave walls, and there were smaller objects that had been embellished in the
same style. In each case the most common elements were drawings of animals.
These discoveries also happened in two countries, France and Spain, which
had rather diVerent traditions of archaeological research. According to Oscar
Moro Abada (2006), that distinction is crucial for it accounts for signiWcant
contrasts in the reception and interpretation of this evidence.
When these images were Wrst identiWed, there were several problems to
consider. The Wrst was a factual issue. Were the drawings ancient or modern?
That question was the easiest one to answer, as some of the small decorated
objects came from stratiWed contexts, while a number of painted or engraved
surfaces extended below the Xoors of the caves or were masked by more recent
mineral deposits. A second matter was harder to resolve, for it concerned the
deWnition of prehistoric art itself. It was here that the views of French and
The Division of the Spoils 5
Spanish scholars diverged. The issues that their disagreement raised have
implications even today.
The nature of this debate has sometimes been misrepresented. It is true that
French scholars like Gabriel de Mortillet were reluctant to accept that the
phenomenon extended to another country, but that superWcial contrast
conceals a more fundamental diVerence of opinion. French researchers were
committed to an evolutionary model of the emergence of human society. This
went back to the conjectural histories favoured during the Enlightenment
and received an important stimulus from the work of Charles Darwin. Similar
beliefs were common during the nineteenth century, from the writings
of Lewis Henry Morgan to those of Sir John Lubbock, and involved
direct comparisons between prehistoric evidence and what was known
about non-Western societies. They remained inXuential for a long time. It is
often forgotten that little over Wfty years ago Gordon Childe wrote a book
discussing Morgans notions of savagery, barbarism, and civilization
(Childe 1951).
If societies could be organized like biological organisms along a scale
from simple to complex, so could the visual images that they produced.
For nineteenth-century scholars this view was reinforced by collections of
non-Western artefacts that were being introduced to Europe by travellers,
soldiers and colonial administrators. If these objects were artworks, then they
were primitive art, just as the people who made them lived in primitive
societies. Again it is surprising how long both these terms remained in use.
The problem for French archaeologists was that sophisticated paintings were
coming to light in caves where they were apparently associated with the
remains of extinct animals. This violated the principles of social evolution,
for cave art showed a disquieting resemblance to the accepted conventions
of nineteenth-century painting. For that reason it was diYcult to accommo-
date these Wndings in a broader understanding of the past.
Although it is sometimes argued that similar problems were experienced
in Spain, there is actually some evidence that the antiquity and authenticity
of cave paintings were accepted with less hesitation. Researchers were not
so troubled by its apparent sophistication, or by the uncanny way in which
certain of the paintings seemed to anticipate visual techniques invented in the
Renaissance (Moro Abada 2006). The fact that some of those scholars were
priests seems to be particularly relevant, for among them were people who
believed the biblical account of the creation. If the world had come into
being fully formed, the idea of progressive social evolution would be ill-
founded. Again that inXuenced the ways in which the archaeological evidence
was interpreted. Human beings had not changed signiWcantly since the world
was made, and nor had their abilities or their spiritual concerns. Thus there
was no objection to the discovery of sophisticated paintings and carvings

dating from the remote past.
The immediate result was that prehistoric art was conceived in two quite
diVerent ways, for reasons which had little to do with the material that was
being studied, and everything to do with the philosophical positions of
the researchers. The existence of cave paintings raised no problem for those
Spanish scholars who accepted the literal truth of the Book of Genesis, but
it posed real diYculties for French intellectuals who had adopted an evolu-
tionary model. In fact another issue inXuenced this debate. Some of the
French authorities seem to have been explicitly anti-clerical. This not only
inXuenced their attitudes to creationist beliefs, it coloured their interpret-
ations of the images themselves. Even when their authenticity had been
accepted, de Mortillet could not accept that the paintings in French caves
had any connection with prehistoric systems of belief. That was because
of his personal hostility to religion. He was reluctant to concede that early
humans possessed any concept of the supernatural. Like other scholars of his
day, he preferred to view these drawings and paintings in wholly secular
terms. They were an exempliWcation of the peculiarly nineteenth-century
notion of art for arts sake.
ARTS A N D C RA FT
That idea raised yet another problem, but this time it was not speciWc to the
Palaeolithic period. During the nineteenth century it was customary to
distinguish between Wne art and the decorative or applied arts (Moro
Abada and Gonzalez Morales 2005; Moro Abada 2006). The distinction
was enshrined in the collections of the museums and galleries founded at
the time, and to a large extent that institutional division retains its inXuence
today. Fine art was created by people with extraordinary abilities. From the
Renaissance onwards they enjoyed a special reputation. The privileging of
certain media, in particular painting and sculpture, only increased with time,
and, as it happened, the monetary value of works of art increased. Larry
Shiner (2001) argues that the contemporary conception of art developed in
the eighteenth century. The decorative arts, on the other hand, were made by
skilled craft workers whose names have often been lost. They usually pro-
duced smaller items, which might include pottery, textiles or jewellery. Many
of these artefacts played useful roles in daily life. It was in an attempt to break
down this artiWcial distinction that the Arts and Crafts Movement was
founded.
One way in which nineteenth-century researchers were able to come to

terms with the discovery of Palaeolithic images was to interpret them accord-
ing to the distinction between Wne art and applied art. At its simplest this
could reXect the diVerent media in which they had been made. Thus the
painted panels inside some French and Spanish caves could be treated as Wne
art, while the portable objects, many of which were engraved in exactly the
same style, were allied to the less prestigious Weld of the decorative arts (Moro
Abada 2006). The diVerences between them were emphasized by the use of
language. The separate chambers inside the decorated caves were often de-
scribed as galleries, as if they were really the equivalent of a Western art
museum, while the decorated artefacts were usually referred to according to
their functions, where they could be inferred.
For a while that distinction was employed by French researchers, for it was
possible to combine it with the prevailing model of social evolution. They
could accept the evidence for decorative arts in the Palaeolithic period more
readily than the antiquity of cave paintings, especially those which featured
extensive or elaborate designs. That was because it seemed consistent with an
evolutionary framework to argue that small, utilitarian objects might have
been embellished at an earlier date than the creation of Wne painted panels
again the choice of term is unconsciously revealing. For the reasons given
earlier, that distinction was not so troubling for Spanish researchers. For them
both kinds of images could have been used simultaneously.
There were two reasons why this disagreement was eventually resolved. The
Wrst was simply the weight of archaeological evidence that the cave paintings
were not only authentic but also ancient. That should have been apparent
from the outset, and the main reason for so much resistance was theoretical
rather than empirical. A second factor that should not be overlooked was a
change in the ways in which European artists and intellectuals viewed non-
Western societies and their material culture.
ART A ND THE EXOTIC
It happened that the archaeological evidence for the high antiquity of cave art
was accepted at much the same time as a new academic discipline was
emerging. This was social anthropology. Its distinctive feature was that it
was explicitly comparative and, to an increasing extent, based on Wrst-hand
observation. The study of non-Western peoples was no longer an intellectual
exercise to be conducted from a library, and, as scholars came to know
these societies in more detail, it became obvious that a simple evolutionary
framework was inadequate. It could not accommodate the variety that was
becoming apparent in the ethnographic record. There was still a tendency
to equate geographical remoteness with chronological distance (Fabian 1983),
but even this simple scheme seemed less attractive. From the early years of the
twentieth century more attention was paid to the characteristics of individual
peoples.
That coincided with a new attitude to the material culture of the same
societies. Now it was increasingly acceptable to consider it as art. That
happened for two reasons. The Wrst was that as exotic items were collected
they were assimilated into the Western art market (N. Thomas 1999). When
the artefacts were put in display they also attracted the attention of painters
and sculptors. The work of Picasso, Brancusi or Modigliani shows the impact
of the new source of inspiration (Renfrew 2002). This has been treated as
a revelation which changed the visual art of the twentieth century, but a
comparison between the exotic objects and the paintings and sculptures that
they inspired shows how literally some of them were copied. In that sense they
were co-opted not only into the art market but also into the repertoire of
Modernism.
The same applied to antiquities, and those European artists who sought
inspiration in primitive art were just as prone to draw on archaeological
material for ideas. They made no distinction between these categories and
may not have been aware of them. The same was true in the salesroom
where ancient artefacts were marketed alongside what became known as
indigenous or tribal art. In fact the two classes seem to have merged in
the organization of some displays. That is hardly surprising since both groups
of material were equally remote from the contexts in which they had been
used.
MUSEUMS A ND THE FIRST ARTS
Recently these problems have assumed a new prominence. This is most

apparent from developments in Paris, the city in which early displays of tribal
art had such an impact on twentieth century painters and sculptors. As so
often happens, the history of public institutions provides a subtle index of
wider changes in cultural life.
Until recently the organization of Paris museums followed the conventional
distinction between Wne art and the decorative arts (S. Price 2007). In the same
way, non-Western artefacts were generally housed in the Musee de lHomme,
and archaeological material in the chateau at Saint-Germain-en-Laye.
There were always some anomalies, and these prove highly revealing. The
Wne art museum of the Louvre actually includes ancient artefacts, but they are
of two diVerent kinds. Many of them are classical antiquities, but there is also a
collection from Egypt, which was conquered by Napoleon. Both groups feature
large and impressive items. Here the connecting link seems to be that they come
from states and empires, for there is an implicit comparison with the political
history of France. The displays also include small groups of objects, including
fragments of pottery and worked stone of the kind which might be found in any
archaeological collection. They have not been chosen for their aesthetic qualities,
and at Wrst sight they seem to be out of place. In fact there is a simple explanation
for their presence. They are used to represent early human activity in regions
of the world that only later came to prominence. Thus there are crude stone
artefacts from Egypt and potsherds from the Mediterranean which have nothing
to contribute to the historical development of Wne art.
In recent years another element has diluted the idea of the Louvre as a
museum of European Wne art. At the instigation of President Chirac, several
rooms were devoted to an attractive display of non-Western artefacts (S. Price
2007). They were selected from the ethnographic collections of the Musee
de lHomme and were intended to provide a foretaste of the contents of the
Musee du quai Branly which has recently opened in Paris. In the light of the
earlier discussion it was perhaps inevitable that among these objects there
were antiquities from the New World which would have been more appro-
priate in an archaeological collection.
The small display in the Louvre was accompanied by two short texts which
were intended to place the exhibition in its wider context. In each case the
English language version is revealing:
The arrival in the Louvreor, rather the returnof art long considered, unjustly, to
be primitive is the culmination of a dream shared over a period of more than a
century by a wide range of people: poets, artists, scientists, collectors, Heads of States,
or ordinary citizens.
This seems to suggest that the visual arts possess an essential unity that the
display in the Louvre was meant to celebrate. The statement also draws
attention to the role of this material as a source of inspiration for modernism,
yet this passage does not mention any of the people who had made these
artefacts; they have been excluded from the dream. In any case these senti-
ments are undermined by the other text, which utilizes the very notion that
the project is intended to reject:
Place of homage to non-Western societies and the sharing of cultures still too often
misunderstood, the Musee du quai Branly is the expression of the will of France to
grant their just place to primitive arts in the world of museums. Further, it is a witness
of the fact that hierarchy no longer exists between the arts any more than it does
between people. (my emphasis)
Either there is primitive art or there is not. No doubt this is partly a problem
of language, but the French original shows the same confusion. It is clear that
similar problems beset other parts of this project. What should the new
museum be called? Although it was a favourite project of Jacques Chirac,
there was opposition to the idea that it should bear his name. Perhaps more
revealing are other names that were rejected before the project came to
fruition. Many of the objects that are now on display were originally in the
Musee de lHomme, an institution whose title makes no reference to art of any
kind. If there was little support for a reference to primitive art, another
proposal was to refer to arts premiers (the Wrst arts). Although this idea did
not Wnd favour, it made two assumptions that remain extremely widespread.
The Wrst is that the material that it would display should properly be charac-
terized as art. The second is that the contents of the museum would not only
be exotic objects, they would also represent a formative phase in the evolution
of art itself. Once again the geographically distant was confused with the
chronologically remote.
In that sense the problems of displaying this material echo those associated
with the Wrst discovery of Palaeolithic art, and over a century later the
evolutionary framework still seems to have supporters in the French cultural
establishment. There is the same implicit equation between non-Western
objects and prehistoric antiquities, as if both represented the earliest ancestors
of contemporary European art. There is also an understandable hesitation as
to whether the term art is really the right one to use. Happily, neither problem
is raised by the name that was eventually chosen for the new museum.
Reviews of the Musee du quai Branly have been mixed; some commenta-
tors have been more impressed by its architecture than they have by the
displays (S. Price 2007). For present purposes two observations seem particu-
larly relevant. The artefacts are displayed in a setting which apparently
represents a jungle. This attempt to provide local colour has not always
been welcomed as it seems to reinforce visitors stereotypes of distant parts
of the world. At the same time, other critics have commented that the objects
on display, while undoubtedly arresting, are shown entirely out of context so
that it is diYcult to appreciate how they would have been employed in their
original settings. In that sense the Western art market seems to have colonized
other areas of the globe, and the museum has even been criticized as a
celebration of the private collector.
LATER PREHISTORIC ART I N EUROPE
So far the discussion has placed most emphasis on the reception of Palaeo-
lithic art in the late nineteenth century and the academic debates that took
place at that time. The major issues extend from the status of artworks as
part of prehistoric material culture to the problems associated with their
collection and display. To some extent their treatment has run in parallel
with that of ethnographic art, and there are even cases in which those
categories have been confused with one another.
The same lessons are apparent from the objects that have been identiWed as
later prehistoric art in Europe; for the purposes of this chapter the term
applies to the material culture of the Neolithic, the Bronze Age and the Iron
Age. Two themes are particularly apparent in accounts of these phases. The
Wrst was preWgured by the discussions in France over the relationship between
Wne art and decorative art during the Palaeolithic period. Even assuming that
art is a useful concept in archaeology, which objects should be included in
this category, and which must be excluded? What are the limits of the canon?
Does the study of this material encourage researchers to make arbitrary
subdivisions within what was once a continuous distribution of artefacts of
greater or lesser visual elaboration? Indeed, it is worth asking how far it is
the appearance of such objects that is being studied rather than the techno-
logical processes involved in making them. That is why artefacts in certain
raw materials, like metalwork, seem to be privileged over others.
The second question arose in discussing the mobile art of the Palaeolithic
period and applies even more obviously to the ethnographic art displayed in
Western museums. To what extent can these artefacts be treated as a self-
contained Weld of study, when the main feature that they share in common is
that they have been removed from their original contexts? In some cases their
roles may have been well documented and can be explained to the public, but,
in others, they were lost as these objects were transformed into artworks. That
is still more of a problem with archaeological material, where it is harder to
decide how it had originally been deployed. The growth of the antiquities
trade means that some of the most impressive artefacts surviving from the
ancient world must be treated separately from the main body of archaeo-
logical evidence. That is certainly the case with Wnds obtained by illegal
excavations and distributed through the salesroom (Renfrew 2000). Indeed,
it is diYcult to decide how such items can be valued when so little is known
about their original signiWcance. Quite simply, their price depends on judging
them by the same criteria as more recent artworksthe materials used, the
skills required to make them, their visual impactand combining this with
an estimate of the rarity of similar objects in existing collections. As much as
anything else, it is their role in the market that has turned them into art.
One can recognize this tension in accounts of prehistoric Europe. Those
written for the general reader are usually well illustrated and make eVective
use of drawings and photographs of a small selection of artworks. Their role
seems to be to show the level of sophistication of ancient visual culture,
for otherwise they play little role in the text. More academic studies
often encounter the same problem, but deal with it in a diVerent way. The
production, circulation and deposition of complex artefacts are often treated
seriously, but speciWc objects attract less attention and the question of art
styles is rarely discussed in any detail. In fact certain kinds of archaeological
information have been marginalized in the past. For many years the painted
and decorated surfaces collectively known as rock art were largely the preserve
of amateur archaeologists and were neglected by academics. Similarly, the
images found inside megalithic tombs have attracted less attention than the
ground plans of those monuments. That may be why prehistoric paintings
and carvings are still being identiWed inside such structures today.
At the same time, there have been specialists who treat prehistoric images as
a self-contained Weld of study without feeling much need to integrate their
results into broader interpretations of the past. This has only encouraged the
idea that ancient art can be studied in isolation. When the two approaches are
brought together, the union can be diYcult to sustain. Nowhere is this more
obvious than in studies of Celtic art, perhaps the best known style of later
prehistoric imagery in Europe.
THE CASE OF CELTIC ART
The special status of Celtic art is widely acknowledged, yet both these terms
pose problems. There has been controversy over the signiWcance of the
peoples Classical writers referred to as Celts. It is obvious that they did not
use the name consistently, so the Celts themselves were located in diVerent
areas of Europe. The use of the term also changed and it is perfectly possible
that it was applied to diVerent communities at diVerent times (Collis 2003).
Some writers did have a clear idea of the groups whom they called by this
name. Others may have thought of Celts simply as a synonym for barbarians.
Peter Wells (2001) has argued that it was the expansion of Roman power
that encouraged previously independent groups to form alliances with one
another. In that sense Celtic identity would have emerged only slowly and in
response to the threat posed by Rome.
The problem is made even worse, because the adjective Celtic has been
applied to a family of languages spoken along the western margin of the
Continent. The links between them have been accepted for many years, but it
is not known when they Wrst developed. During the last two centuries these
connections have taken on a political dimension, as nationalist movements
have used both the literary and linguistic evidence to emphasize the distinct-
ive identities of countries along the Atlantic coastline. This approach has also
drawn on archaeological material, which has often been misunderstood.
Among these sources were prehistoric visual images. Again the notion of
Celtic art has given rise to problems.
There seems no reason to question the former existence of people who
called themselves Celts. On the other hand, the term has not been much help
to archaeologists and would have been better avoided. Enough confusion has
been created by the identiWcation of Celtic languages (whose reality is not in
any doubt). It creates still more uncertainty to apply the same adjective to a
style of art.
CELTIC ART AND LA TE` NE ART
Those who are uneasy with the adjective Celtic because of its ethnic conno-
tations talk of the La Te`ne style, named after a proliWc Wnd of decorated
artefacts in Switzerland. At Wrst sight that is a reasonable procedure, and an
entire phase of the Iron Age is also called La Te`ne. In its wider connotation
the term is used from Eastern Europe to Ireland.
On a descriptive level it is clear what is meant by the La Te`ne style:
In La Te`ne there is a total transformation of the natural world. The clumsily fused
composite beasts of [an earlier] period give way to apparently free-form fantastic
shapes and creatures and allow the eVortless grafting of plant and animal motifs. Each
piece of La Te`ne art is diVerent, involving a unique nexus of curving lines that
converge and diverge. Artists had tried sometimes maintaining and sometimes re-
leasing the developing trajectories of edges, so as always to keep the motifs from being
over-geometric, stylized or, indeed, replicable. (Taylor 1996: 122)
The problem is that the nature of the original Wnd spot was controversial
when this style was Wrst deWned and remained so until a new programme of
research began in 2007 (Hummler 2007). There was no doubt that the
decorated artefacts were found in a river associated with the remains of two
wooden bridges and other structures. There were deposits of animal bones
and human remains, but opinion was divided whether this was a rich
settlement or a sanctuary associated with unusually lavish deposits. Those
who advocated a mundane interpretation postulated a catastrophic Xood
which had overwhelmed the site and drowned some of the inhabitants.
Their opponents drew attention to the unusual nature of the faunal assem-
blage and to the distinctive manner in which human remains had been treated
at La Te`ne. The discovery of a similar complex on the nearby site of Cornaux
did not resolve the problem: it made it still more complex. Here there
was another wooden bridge associated with deposits like those at La Te`ne,
but these structures were not contemporary with one another (Schwab
19902002). If the metalwork and other material had accumulated by accident,
it was necessary to postulate two separate Xoods, both with exactly the same
consequences.
Research on these sites is still in progress, but now there is more reason to
accept that their contents were placed there intentionally (Reginelli Servais
2007). Even so, few of these interpretations can be entirely satisfactory since
many of the artefacts from La Te`ne have been dispersed and the most
informative Weldwork took place many years ago. That is not important for
the present argument. The point is that an entire style of prehistoric artone
of the best known of allwas created around a collection of objects whose
original signiWcance was poorly understood. If it was diYcult to say whether
the Wnds from La Te`ne were votive oVerings or chance losses, there was little
justiWcation for a more ambitious analysis. Their Wnd spot was known and
had even been investigated, but until recently the outcome of this work
remained unclear. Perhaps that is why so much attention has been paid to
the classiWcation of the decorated artefacts and their counterparts in other
regions of Europe. Specialists on Celtic art ran the risk of conducting an
enquiry which studied only part of the evidence. All too often they used
the methods of art history rather than those of archaeology. They can still
do that today.
There are other questions concerning the use of the word art to describe a
body of material whose distribution extends across much of Central and
Western Europe. This is recognized in one of the best accounts of this evidence:
In dealing with Celtic art, it is necessary to abandon post-Renaissance deWnitions,
which are as meaningless in understanding Celts as they are for most other prehistoric
or ethnographic material. Distinctions developed in our own society between
high art, popular art, and craft are alien to most other peoples at most other
times. . . . Much Celtic art is found on everyday objectspottery, weapons and
horse-harness. (Megaw and Megaw 2001: 16)
Despite these caveats, it is clear that the Megaws think that Celtic art is a
meaningful category:
A minimal working deWnition of Celtic art is that it encompasses elements of
decoration beyond those necessary for functional utility, though these elements
represent a form of symbolic visual communication which is only partly accessible
to us. (Megaw and Megaw 2001: 19)
Their account goes on to emphasize the role played by decorated metalwork.
It was made by specialists and required unusual skills. Its production was
probably commissioned by members of a social elite and may have been a
particular feature of regions with high levels of agricultural production.
Other scholars have shown similar uncertainty is deWning the repertoire of
Celtic art. Again the nineteenth-century distinction between Wne art and the
decorative arts has played a part in their thinking. Introducing his book
Pattern and Purpose, published in 1958, Cyril Fox expressed the dilemma in
this way:
Early Celtic art is distinctive; technique and design in gold, bronze or iron are often
masterly, but there is nothing of Fine Art about it; the incised patterns of relief
ornament are on purposeful thingstorcs, brooches and bracelets, weapons and
drinking vessels, for example. It was not only a decorative art ; useful things were
well shaped, with a sense of style, so a beautiful or well-balanced form often suYced,
satisfying the bronze-workers critical sense, as it does ours. (emphasis in the
original; Fox 1958: v)
At other points he seems more tentative:
The character and quality of many works of Celtic art . . . are not of the Wrst rank. . . . It
will be found diYcult, as in the case of other societies at the same stage of develop-
ment, to distinguish between works of art and of craft. (Fox 1958: vi)
Martyn Jopes great study of Early Celtic Art in the British Isles was published
in 2000, over forty years after Foxs book, although much of the text was
written earlier. He expresses the same diYculties in characterizing Celtic art,
although he maintains that it is a useful term. Like Fox, he also accepts that
there is considerable variation in the quality of the material being studied:
There are degrees of quality within the material before us . . . Artist is a diYcult term.
It lies at the reWned end of a long hierarchy, with craftsmen of varying skill and
aspiration at the other. We often Wnd need for the intermediate, more Xuid
terms artiWcer, or artisan in its older sense of one who practices or cultivates an
art. (emphasis in the original; Jope 2000: 3)
Having established this point, Jopes two-volume study is concerned almost
entirely with artefacts. For that reason it has not had much inXuence on more
general studies of the Iron Age. Its Wndings play little part in the most recent
edition of CunliVes Iron Age Communities in Britain (CunliVe 2005) or in
Hardings The Iron Age in Northern Britain (Harding 2004) Indeed, this
evidence has been so diYcult to integrate into the mainstream of prehistoric
studies that three years later Harding followed it with a separate book, The
Archaeology of Celtic Art (Harding 2007).
D E F I N I N G TH E CA N O N
All the writers quoted here express uncertainties over the status of Celtic
artworks and their relationship to the production of other Iron Age objects.
Megaw and Megaw (2001) explain that the modern distinction between high
art, popular art and handicrafts might have had no signiWcance for people in
the past. Fox (1958) makes a similar observation. He emphasizes the produc-
tion of purposeful things, although he goes on to say that those objects often
amount to more than decorative art. Similarly, Jope (2000) distinguishes
between artists and craftsman but acknowledges that there was a long
hierarchy extending between the two extremes. These writers, and others,
seem to accept that there was really a continuum of decorated objects,
although it is not so clear at which point they felt that art became the
appropriate term to use.
Celtic art is identiWed through its appearance rather than the processes by
which it was made. An undecorated object, however demanding its produc-
tion, is rarely admitted to the corpus. Books about Celtic art are lavishly
illustrated with drawings and photographs. Another way of deciding what is
included in this category is to go beyond the written deWnitions and to
analyse the illustrations themselves. Which kinds of object are depicted as
examples of Celtic art, and which do not appear? Do their proportions vary
between diVerent authors? Has the range of artefacts accepted as Celtic art
changed signiWcantly during the period in which it has been studied?
The account that follows is based on an analysis of the artefacts illustrated
in a series of books whose titles include the term Celtic art. The areas covered
extend from Central Europe to the British Isles and the publications span the
course of the twentieth century. They were also aimed at a variety of diVerent
readers, so the sample includes general accounts of Celtic art, museum and
exhibition catalogues, and academic studies of this material. The one limita-
tion is that this review does not include any material earlier than the Iron Age
or any artefacts dating from the post-Roman period. Roman Iron Age objects
are considered, however, as the use of this style obviously extended into that
phase.
For the purposes of this study the material was divided into eight categories
(Tables 1 and 2). This meant that some of the rarer types were excluded and
that a number of artefacts had to be treated together. They were grouped as
follows: weapons; large ornaments; small ornaments; pottery; coins; sculp-
tures; artefacts for preparing or serving food and drink; and equipment
associated with horse riding and the use of wheeled vehicles. A few of these
categories require some explanation. The larger personal ornaments are
artefacts like torcs which can be recognized from some distance away; the
smaller examples are mostly brooches. Occasionally these classes overlap. For
example, lavishly decorated helmets might be treated as objects for personal
adornment. Here they are classiWed as weapons on analogy with decorated
sword scabbards.
In a few cases the contrasts between the objects illustrated in these books
can be explained by regional variations in the material identiWed as Celtic art.
Thus decorated pots feature particularly strongly in an account of the evi-
dence from Central Europe; Iron Age sculptures are mainly depicted in books
about the Continent; and horse harness plays an important role in studies of
the British Isles. Much more revealing are the contrasts between diVerent
accounts of the same regions. Thus Romilly Allens early account of metal-
work in Britain places most emphasis on small ornaments such as brooches,
followed (in decreasing order of frequency) by ceramics, weapons and the
larger ornaments (Allen 1904). Another major study of the same material was
by Cyril Fox and was published by the National Museum of Wales. Here the
proportions are not dissimilar. Most of the illustrations are of small orna-
ments, followed by weapons, pottery, equipment associated with horses, and
coins (Fox 1958). Ian Steads introduction to Celtic art, which was published
by the British Museum, puts most emphasis on weapons. There are fewer
illustrations of personal ornaments of both kinds, or of equipment connected
with riding. Pots scarcely feature in his review (Stead 1996). The situation is
diVerent again in Martyn Jopes major study, for here the artefacts associated
with riding dominate the illustrations, followed by weapons, coins, and
artefacts associated with eating and drinking. Even fewer personal ornaments
are shown (Jope 2000).
Publications of Celtic art on the Continent are less diverse. Jacobstahls
monumental study includes more illustrations of small ornaments than
any other artefact type. They are followed by large personal ornaments,
weapons, artefacts associated with the service of food and drink, and sculp-
tures (Jacobstahl 1944). The recent account by Megaw and Megaw (2001)
observes a similar balance among its drawings and photographs. The most
Table 1. The relative quantities of diVerent kinds of artefacts illustrated as examples
of Celtic Art in Britain and Ireland. The sample is limited to objects of pre-Roman and
Roman Iron Age dates and shows their distribution from 1 (the most frequent) to 8
(the least). Data from Allen (1904), Fox (1958), Finlay (1973), MacGregor (1976),
Stead (1996), and Jope (2000)
Weapons Large Small Pots Eating Coins Horses Sculptures
ornaments ornaments and and
drinking vehicles
Allen 3 4 1 2 6 8 5 7
Fox 2 7 1 3 6 5 4 8
Finlay 3 4 7 6 8 1 5 2
MacGregor 2 3 4 6 5 1
Stead 1 4 3 7 5 2 6
Jope 2 6 5 7 4 3 1 8
frequent elements are weapons. Large ornaments follow, and then artefacts
associated with feasting, smaller ornaments, and coins. In this case the
two studies feature approximately the same kinds of material. That is also
true of a more popular account of Celtic art commissioned by UNESCO
(Raftery ed. 1990). Again there are some signiWcant contrasts. Jacobstahl
illustrates roughly twice as many small ornaments as these other books,
while the Megaws feature signiWcantly more weapons than had featured in
his monograph Wfty-seven years earlier.
Even this cursory study is suYcient to show that there is no consensus
about the contents of Celtic art. Although there are regional traditions of
researchand obvious contrasts in the material available for study in diVer-
ent parts of Europethere are noticeable variations in the choice of illustra-
tions between successive studies of the Iron Age archaeology of the same
regions. Why is this?
Perhaps the main reason is that the authors of those studies strike a
diVerent balance between large visually arresting items such as swords, shields
and helmets, and inconspicuous items like brooches. There are also diVer-
ences in the amount of attention paid to pottery and coins. That is not to
criticize these studies, but merely to make the observation that there is no one
body of material which everyone would accept as Celtic art. The main
diVerences follow similar lines to the distinction that has long been made
between Wne art and the decorative arts. The principal writers in this Weld
have acknowledged this point, although they do not seem to agree on where,
or how, to make the division.
The changing corpus accepted as Celtic art is also inXuenced by the
pattern of discovery. This is clearly illustrated by the genesis of Jopes account
Table 2. The relative quantities of diVerent kinds of artefacts illustrated as examples
of Celtic Art in studies mainly concerned with Continental Europe. The table shows
their distribution from 1 (the most frequent) to 8 (the least). Data from Jacobstahl
(1944), Hawkes and Duval (1972), Szabo (1974), Duval and Kruta (1982), Raftery
(1990), and Megaw and Megaw (2001)
Weapons Large Small Pots Eating Coins Horses Sculptures
ornaments ornaments and and
drinking vehicles
Jacobstahl 3 2 1 6 4 7 5
Hawkes and Duval 4 5 3 2 6 1 8 7
Szabo 2 5 3 1 6 4
Duval and Kruta 4 1 2 3 5 6 7 8
Raftery 2 1 3 7 4 5 8 6
Megaw and Megaw 1 2 4 7 3 5 8 6
which was composed over many years. It has three components: a substantial
text concerned with the character, chronology and distribution of this style
in Britain and Ireland; a large number of photographs and drawings of
individual objects; and an inventory of the illustrated artefacts. The text was
largely complete thirty years before the book was published and makes
little reference to some of the items that feature in the catalogue. 1970 was
not a good time to complete an undertaking of this kind, for the closing
decades of the last century saw an increase in the amount of archaeological
Weldwork necessitated by commercial development. It also saw the use of
metal detectors and the large scale collection of artefacts from unexcavated
sites, many of which have passed into private hands. There were a few
cemetery excavations and even discoveries of river Wnds, but the main
source of the new material was the settlements. They have always been
associated with small personal artefacts and coins. The result of this activity
was that the body of material available for study not only increased, it also
changed its composition. The structure of Jopes monograph bears witness
to this development and helps to explain why he experienced such diYculties
in Wnishing it.
THE LO SS OF CONTEXT
If one problem in discussing prehistoric art is deciding which material comes

into that category, the other is that the contexts of ancient artefacts are often
lost. That is certainly true of some of the best-known examples of Celtic art.
The closing section of this chapter illustrates this point with three examples.
In each case it can be argued that the appearance of ancient objects has
commanded so much attention because their wider cultural connections
have been overlooked.
The Wrst of these artefacts is the Battersea Shield, which was discovered in
the River Thames when a bridge was constructed in the middle of the
nineteenth century. There is no doubt that this is one of the most impressive
pieces of Iron Age metalwork, and it is decorated with the many of the most
characteristic devices of insular Celtic art. Not only is it embellished with
three raised panels which incorporate pieces of glass, the design also includes
several heads which had been carefully concealed amidst the Xowing imagery
(Figure 1)
Ian Stead (1985) has written an important monograph on the Battersea
Shield, which contains a detailed analysis of its manufacture, style and chron-
ology, but in only one paragraph does he mention that it was found together
with over a hundred human skulls. This attracted so much attention at the
time that the discovery of these remains entirely overshadowed the identiWca-
tion of the shield. Indeed the Wnd spot was soon described as a Celtic
Golgotha (Cuming 1857). Only later did the Battersea Shield become the
focus of attention. It is now in the British Museum, while the skulls have been
Figure 1. Iron Age shield from the River Thames at

Battersea.
largely forgotten. Many years later some of them were identiWed in the
collection of another London museum (Bradley and Gordon 1988).
Steads book says very little about this, for, like Jopes corpus, it treats the
decorated metalwork in almost complete isolation. Only on the last page does
he concede that the Wnd might be of any wider interest. His discussion is very
brief:
It is conceivable that it was lost in a riverside battle, or that it fell from a capsized boat,
but is just as likely that it was deliberately consigned to the river to placate or honour a
Celtic god. (1985: 47)
Another famous Wnd of Celtic art comes from Basse-Yutz in the Moselle.
Again the Wnds are displayed in the British Museum and have been the subject
of an entire monograph (Megaw and Megaw 1990). This small collection
consisted of two bronze Xagons and a pair of Etruscan stamnoi. The Xagons
are among the best known of all Iron Age artefacts and have been described as
great masterpieces of Celtic art. They are unusually complex artefacts which
feature animals and birds amidst a wealth of seemingly abstract ornament
(Figure 2).
These four objects have a curious history. When they were found by
workmen in 1927 they were mistaken for unexploded shells from the First
World War, and even after their recovery there were numerous diVerences of
opinion concerning their antiquity and their original place of origin. Were
they really of nineteenth-century date, or were they Romanesque? They might
have been ancient or modern, but were they loot buried by the German army
Figure 2. Bronze Xagon from Basse Yutz, Moselle.

during the war, and could they have been brought there from Italy, or, as some
said, from Romania? Major museums and collectors had been hoaxed in the
recent past, and there was an understandable reluctance to purchase the
artefacts. Accounts of their discovery were changed, so that the Wnd spot
was now declared to be a medieval abbey, but, as the metalwork passed from
hand to hand, it sold for increasing sums of money. Eventually, two of the
original Wnders who had provided misleading information about the discov-
ery were prosecuted for theft, and all the artefacts were exported to London
where they remain to this day.
If the location of the Wnd remained in doubtit was not re-established
until 1929so did its archaeological context, and it is because of this that the
metalwork is diYcult to interpret. At the time of the discovery there were
rumours that other artefacts had been founda belt buckle, and a torc or
neck ring which may have been of ironbut, if so, they have never been
traced. This leaves the original signiWcance of the deposit in doubt. If the
Xagons and the stamnoi had been accompanied by personal ornaments then
they might have been the contents of a grave: one of a number of rich burials
recorded from this region. On the other hand, if they were the only artefacts
from Basse-Yutz the site could perhaps be interpreted as a traders hoard: a
problematical category which calls for more critical examination. In the
absence of any additional information, there is nothing to study but the
objects themselves. Once the details of their context had been obscured, it
was only natural to treat them as works of art.
The last example is the Gundestrup Cauldron which was discovered by
farm workers in Jutland in 1891 (Kaul 1995). Although the Wnd spot was
carefully recorded, there were similar disputes over who should receive a
reward, and again the question reached the law courts. Another feature
which recalls the situation at Basse-Yutz is that parts of this elaborate silver
vessel were missing. It was never established whether it had been complete
when its remains were found and whether any fragments had been stolen
(Figure 3).
One observation is particularly important. The vessel had been taken to
pieces and the fragments had been deposited in a peat bog. It is the character
of this Wnd that poses problems. Not far away was the unusual fortiWed village
of Borremose which was located in a similar environment. Pottery vessels may
have been deposited as oVerings in the enclosure ditch, and in the vicinity
four bog bodies have been recorded, although they are older than either the
cauldron or the settlement (Martens 1988). While it would be tempting to
interpret the Gundestrup Cauldron as another votive deposit, it had two
unusual features. It is clear that the pieces had been placed on the surface of
the peat; they were not deposited in a wet environment, as was the case with
Figure 3. The Gundestrup Cauldron.
other objects during the Iron Age. Moreover, the cauldron had been disman-
tled and the decorated plates were carefully stacked inside its base. The
metalwork could hardly have been less conspicuous, and for Bergquist and
Taylor (1987) this suggests an attempt to conceal it. In this case something is
known about the original context of this Wnd, but the detailed evidence is so
ambiguous that it is yet another object that has to be treated on its own terms.
There is more to say about the ways in which this Wnd has been studied.
According to Bergquist and Taylor, the Gundestrup Cauldron has the dis-
tinction of being the single most discussed artefact from European prehistory.
It is the subject of Wve monographs and several hundred pages of periodical
literature (1987: 10). That total has risen since they wrote these words. If it is
one of the most celebrated objects, it is also one of the least understood. Just
as the reasons behind its deposit remain obscure, so do the questions of where
it was made and how to interpret its distinctive imagery.
At diVerent times the cauldron has been given a variety of dates extending
over no fewer than seven hundred years, although now there seems to be some
consensus that it should be attributed to the second century bc. It was not the
only imported cauldron to be deposited in Denmark, as another example was
found in a pit at Bra. The example from Gundestrup is particularly remark-

able for the relief decoration on the sliver plates from which it is made. It
occurs on both the interior and exterior of the vessel.
The interpretation of these images has posed many problems, and diVerent
authorities have been quite conWdent in assigning them to more widely
distributed styles. For Klindt-Jensen (1961) the cauldron was an important
addition to the corpus of Celtic art. He proposed that it should form the basis
for a distinctive sub-style which would supplement those already deWned by
Jacobstahl (1944). Other authorities have argued that both the style and the
technique of metalworking are more akin to Thracian traditions which were
current in the Lower Danube, a region including parts of modern Bulgaria
and Romania (Bergquist and Taylor 1987).
The details of the images raise further problems, for they have been claimed
as distinctively Celtic by some writers and as distinctively Thracian by others;
there is even a claim that some of the images originated in India (Taylor
1992). Bergquist and Taylor (1987) comment that none of the designs sup-
posedly associated with Celts was absent from the corpus of Thracian art: a
view which was supported by Kaul in 1995. In any case there were historically
documented contacts between these diVerent peoples. Even so, there are
counterclaims that the cauldron was made in Gaul. If the designs really did
refer to features of Celtic belief and iconography, it might be because it was
commissioned by a member of a Celtic community but made by Thracian
smiths according to their own artistic tradition. Yet another possibility is that
the cauldron was taken back to Scandinavia by a war band, perhaps members
of the Cimbri, who had fought in Eastern Europe; they may also have
introduced the cauldron from Bra which was buried in Jutland together
with part of an Attic lamp. These are not the only cases in which a problem
of this kind arises as occasional items of Thracian metalwork have been found
as far west as the Channel Island of Sark (Allen 1971).
The decorated plates that make up the Gundestrup Cauldron can be
reunited in more than one way. They are not complete and it is by no
means certain that the reconstruction made soon after their discovery was
correct. Even so, there seems to be some agreement that the decorated panels
are telling a story, or stories. What is extraordinary is that diVerent researchers
have been able to oVer completely diVerent versions of that narrative and to
relate it to texts that have nothing in common with one another. Thus
Olmstedt (1979), who considers that the cauldron was made in Gaul, iden-
tiWes the images with the story told in the Irish epic Tain Bo Cuailnge (the
Cattle Raid of Cooley). To do so he not only postulates an early date for a
poem which contains elements that are usually thought to refer to the late Wrst
millennium AD, he also suggests that it had an unrecorded prototype in Gaul.
Another view is that the Wgures on the cauldron illustrate a cycle of Thracian
tales, some of which were mentioned by Herodotus (Kaul, Mazarov, Best, and
De Vries 1991).
In short, there is disagreement about almost every aspect of the Gundestrup
Cauldron. It may have been hidden in the bog by people who had brought it to
Denmark as loot, or it could have been intended as a votive oVering. It may
have been made either by Thracians or by Celts, and it may, or may not, be
considered as Celtic art. In either case the argument is based largely on stylistic
criteria. The stories that it illustrates may be associated with Thrace, with Gaul
(or even with Ireland). In any case Denmark was outside the distributions of
both Thracian and Celtic metalwork, and the circumstances in which the
cauldron was brought to Northern Europe must be postulated on the basis
of written sources. It is frustrating to study such ambiguous evidence, and
the conWdence with which individual scenes have been interpreted brings the
credibility of prehistoric archaeology into question.
This situation arises because the cauldron is studied as a work of art, using
techniques of visual analysis that would be as appropriate to Greek vases or
Renaissance paintings. Since there is little to suggest why it was ever in
Denmark, and still less to indicate why its fragments were deposited, it is
hard to integrate its study with the main currents in Iron Age archaeology. Its
apparent isolation has turned it into an artwork, and it is as an artwork that it
is generally analysed. In that guise it provides one of the most common
illustrations in popular accounts of Celtic art. That is unfortunate, for it is a
style with which it has little in common.
Perhaps this is an extreme case, but are there no alternatives to such
obscure procedures? This book has been written in the belief that more
productive approaches do exist. Their potential is considered in Chapter 2.
2
Pattern and Purpose
NAMES AND DEFINITIONS
It seems as though archaeology acquired a category of prehistoric art through

a series of accidents: the pattern of discovery in the nineteenth century; a
growing appetite for primitive art in the twentieth; and the expansion of the
market in antiquities. Could it have been any diVerent? A useful comparison is
with research in social anthropology.
Chapter 1 discussed how archaeologists had met with problems in deWning
prehistoric art. They were aware that it was very diVerent from its modern
counterpart, and much of the discussion focused on the contrasts between
these genres and the extent to which they could be compared with one
another. Social anthropologists have faced some of the same uncertainties,
but they have also been concerned with questions of terminology. It is
demeaning to describe something as primitive art, yet the term tribal art
fares little better since the very notion of the tribe is a product of the colonial
era. Ethnographic art or indigenous art are neutral terms, but they are not
particularly explicit, while the notion of non-Western art is equally unsatis-
factory, for in practice it describes the visual culture of regions like Africa and
the PaciWc rather than the more complex products of areas like India, China
and western Asia.
If it is difWcult to Wnd an appropriate adjective, it is still more challenging
for anthropologists to oVer a deWnition of art itself. In his influential book
The Anthropology of Art, Robert Layton says this:
There are two approaches to the deWnition of art which are applicable across cultural
boundaries, even if neither seems to have quite universal application. One deals in
terms of aesthetics, the other treats art as communication distinguished by a particu-
larly apt use of images. (Layton 1991: 4)
A comparable deWnition is oVered by Howard Morphy:
Art objects are ones with aesthetic and/or semantic attributes (but in most cases
both), that are used for representational or presentational purposes. (Morphy 1994:
655; cf. Morphy and Perkins 2005)
Pattern and Purpose 27
This contains two key notions, aesthetics and semantics, each of which can be
considered in relation to prehistoric archaeology. It is unfortunate that both
these concepts have proved to be controversial.
D E B ATI N G A E S T H E T IC S
1996 saw the publication of an unusual book, Key Debates in Anthropology,

which recorded the proceedings of a series of annual meetings held at the
University of Manchester (Ingold ed. 1996). As the title suggests, each was
organized as a formal debate on a theme of general interest to anthropologists.
It was structured around a speciWc motion, which was proposed and seconded
by two well-known researchers and opposed by two other scholars of similar
standing in the discipline. There followed a general discussion, the proceedings
of which are recorded in the book, and, Wnally, a vote.
The novel format focused the discussion on the most important issues. It
certainly happened in the 1993 debate which considered the proposition that
aesthetics is a cross-cultural category. This discussion is particularly relevant
to the study of prehistoric art, as aesthetics is one of the elements in Morphys
deWnition of the art object.
In fact Morphy was the Wrst speaker at the meeting and proposed the
motion for debate. His argument depends on the proposition that aesthetics
is concerned with the human capacity to assign qualitative values to proper-
ties of the material world. We do not assert that the particular attributions
made are universal . . . Aesthetics is concerned with the whole process of
socialization of the senses with the evaluation of the properties of things
(Ingold ed. 1996: 258).
The values that people attach to such properties diVer from one society to
another, for it is the process that is the common element rather than the criteria
employed. Morphys argument refers to the wide variety of diVerent attributes
that have been highlighted in particular communities. They include the weight,
texture, hardness and brightness of certain substances, and the qualities of the
things made out of them. As Gosden has observed, each culture creates its own
sensory environment, both physically through constructing a material world
with its own sensory properties, and culturally through emphasizing and valuing
certain types of sense impressions over others (2001: 166). In non-Western
societies aesthetic appreciation is not limited to questions of design and tech-
nology, as it has been in accounts of prehistoric art.
The motion was seconded by Jeremy Coote, who had already co-edited a
volume of essays on Anthropology, Art and Aesthetics (Coote and Shelton eds.
1992). He argues that a basic notion of aesthetics is shared by quite diVerent

societies. The important point is that not all of them relate to any conception
of art. The best illustration comes from a paper that he wrote in the 1992
volume. It employs a deWnition of aesthetics which is very similar to
Morphys: The anthropology of aesthetics . . . consists in the comparative
study of valued perceptual experiences in diVerent societies (Coote 1992:
247). Whereas much of Morphys Weldwork has taken place among native
Australians who produce artworks for their own needs and for the commer-
cial market, Coote worked with people in the Sudan who make no art objects
and have no traditions of visual art (1992: 245).
On the other hand, Coote argues, they possess a developed aesthetic sense
which is based on the visual qualities of their cattle. There is a complex
classiWcation of the diVerent colours of these animals, and care is devoted to
grooming them and to maintaining the sheen on their hides. Animals which are
considered to be exceptionally beautiful are a source of great prestige and are
never used as breeding stock. The same attention is paid to the humps on the
cattle and to the exact conWguration of their horns. In fact Coote observes that
their owners imitate the appearance of the cattle in their dances and even in their
body decoration. Although children may make tiny models of these creatures, the
same concerns do not Wnd expression in anything that can be described as art.
In the Manchester debate the thesis put forward by Morphy and Coote was
opposed by two other speakers, Joanna Overing and Peter Gow. For Overing
the concept of aesthetics is closely associated with Western notions of art. She
describes the Cult of the Art Object which revolves around a sacred triad
comprised of the individual artist, the art object, and the individual contem-
plator of the object. By contrast, among the Piaroa of the Amazon the concepts
of the artist, the art object and the aesthetically astute subject do not exist.
There are certain objects that people describe as beautiful, but most of them
are everyday items like tools, and their beauty cannot be treated separately
from the ways in which they are used. They do not occupy a distinct domain
and are part of the everyday world. Objects and people are beautiful because of
what they can do (Ingold ed. 1996: 264).
Like Overing, Gow considers that the use of the term aesthetics is preju-
diced by Western ideas about art. Moreover, he concludes that such ideas are
based on judgement and comparison as a strategy in contemporary society. It
is not the business of anthropologists to make value judgements of this kind
and therefore it is wrong to export European aesthetic notions to the study of
other societies.
Part of the disagreement was caused by problems of terminology. It is clear
that many societies do not have any word for aesthetics, just as they lack a
word for art itself. Nevertheless they may have an elaborate vocabulary for
discussing the visual and tactile qualities of objects, animals, places and body
decoration. For example, there are many diVerent terms for the colours of
Nuer cattle. While Morphy and Coote discuss the sensory impact of diVerent
media, from sand paintings to live animals, Overing is more concerned with
what Western collectors think of as artworks. They are not present among the
Piaroa, where concepts of beauty are associated with everyday objects and
their use. The very idea of a beautiful artefact suggests that aesthetic judge-
ments are made in that society; but they take a diVerent form from those in
contemporary Europe. Her argument does not contradict the wider deWnition
of aesthetics put forward by the proposers of the motion.
Similarly, Gows diagnosis of the perils of aesthetics is based on Bourdieus
analysis of the ways in which art is deployed as a source of cultural capital in
contemporary society (Bourdieu 1991). That process depends on making
critical judgements, but comparisons of this kind do not form any part of
the case advanced by Morphy and Coote. The competing arguments put
forward in the debate do not engage with one another because they are
based on diVerent premises. Although the Manchester meeting ended with
a vote that rejected the notion of aesthetics, such a radical step was not
justiWed by the arguments presented there. James Weiner, who convened
this particular meeting, seems to have taken a similar view and says so in
his introduction to the proceedings (Ingold ed. 1996: 2513).
In any event the concept seems to have survived the critical onslaught, and
Wve years after the text of the debate was published an entire issue of the journal
World Archaeology was devoted to Archaeology and Aesthetics (Gosden ed. 2001).
It considered such topics as the use of lustrous raw materials, the production of
faience Wgurines, pottery decoration, body painting and the siting of monu-
ments. Its contents have had a signiWcant influence, and other studies have
followed. One of the simplest and most convincing demonstrates the import-
ance of colour in the creation of prehistoric artefacts and monuments (Jones
and MacGregor eds. 2002). Another draws attention to the signiWcance of
distinctive minerals for prehistoric people (Boivin and Owoc eds. 2004).
T H E QU E S T I O N O F S E M A N TI C S
In Morphys deWnition art objects are ones with aesthetic and/or semantic
attributes (1994: 65). Having considered the status of aesthetics, how should
semantics be understood?
The dictionary deWnition of semantics is the branch of linguistics con-
cerned with meaning. The adjective semantic has two deWnitions, although
they are quite similar. In one case it refers to features relating to meaning in
language, and, in the other, to those relating to the connotations of words
(Concise Oxford Dictionary). It is obvious that any application to the visual
arts must be metaphorical. To what extent do images act in a similar manner
to speech? This is an issue that has been debated in both archaeology and
anthropology and one where there has been an unusual convergence of
interests.
The idea that material culture is employed in a similar manner to language
goes back to the work of Levi-Strauss whose ideas were influenced by research
on the structure of language itself (Tilley 1990). Saussure argued that the
relationship between words and the things they represent is entirely arbitrary:
taken in isolation, a term like art gives no clue to what it means. That must be
established by its context in relation to other terms. At the same time, the
use of language depends on the human capacity to bring together concepts
that are linked and to distinguish them from others to which they are opposed.
Thus language develops through a process of association and contrast.
Levi-Strauss argued that this process reflects a fundamental property of the
human mind. This is the way in which it analyses and orders experience. For
that reason it is not conWned to the construction and use of language and
extends into other domains. The same idea lay behind the structural analysis
of myth which pervades many of his writings, but it has also influenced his
accounts of visual imagery. By considering how particular images are created
and juxtaposed, anthropologists acquire vital clues to their meanings and the
information that they are intended to convey. Of course researchers may have
access to a further source of information, as some of those designs are made
by known individuals and are deployed in contexts that can be observed. Thus
the anthropologist can turn to local informants to learn about the interpret-
ation of particular images. He or she can also infer something of their
signiWcance from the ways in which they are used. Again it is necessary to
go beyond the conception of artworks as portable artefacts of the kind that
can be displayed in museums, for the same ideas are just as applicable to the
embellishment of buildings, body decoration and rock paintings.
Although Levi-Strauss was less concerned with ethnographic art than he
was with other subjects, his original insight inspired a whole series of studies
of visual images in anthropology. The trend continued and even intensiWed as
the influence of structuralism declined. Notable contributors to this kind of
research have included Anthony Forge (1973), who wrote about indigenous
art in Papua New Guinea; Nancy Munn (1973), whose study Walbiri
Iconography did much to inspire work in this Weld; Robert Layton (1992),
who has written on Australian rock art; and Alfred Gell (1993), who analysed
the signiWcance of tattooing in Polynesia.
Levi-Strausss work is less fashionable today, but it had a direct influence on

the study of prehistoric art through the research of Andre Leroi-Gourhan.
Leroi-Gourhan occupies a unique place in the history of the discipline as his
publications span both archaeology and anthropology. Among social anthro-
pologists he is best known for his investigations of technological systems,
while prehistorians are influenced by his innovative approach to excavation.
He brought his diverse interests together in studies of Palaeolithic cave
paintings (Leroi-Gourhan 1965 and 1982). Although his conclusions are
questioned, his approach remains important today.
Leroi-Gourhan treated the images in these caves in much the same way as
Saussure treated words. He did not distinguish between the depictions of
animals and humans, and the abstract signs that were disregarded in earlier
accounts. Like Levi-Strauss, he was seeking order in this diverse material, and
was doing so by trying to establish which elements were commonly found
together and which other components were kept apart. His main concern was
with patterns of association and exclusion. These design elements occurred in
diVerent combinations and were found in diVerent parts of the decorated caves.
On this basis Leroi-Gourhan (1965) put forward two interpretations. These
caves were really sanctuaries in which considerable attention had been paid to
the proper organization of space. Distinctive designs, or groups of designs,
might be associated with separate areas (Figure 4). There was nothing hap-
hazard about the placing of the images. At the same time, the painted and
engraved motifs could be combined into groups which had diVerent distribu-
tions from one another. Each included depictions of certain species of animals,
combined with a speciWc range of apparently abstract motifs (Figure 5).
Leroi-Gourhan also sought to identify some of the non-Wgurative designs,
and on that basis he divided them between one series which he characterized
as male and a second group which he identiWed as female. Each group had
diVerent associations. For that reason he suggested that certain animal species
were used to represent gender distinctions. He concluded that the decorated
caves were places where, among other activities, rituals were conducted to
increase the fertility of the human and animal populations.
In his later work Leroi-Gourhan expressed doubts about the validity of this
interpretation, and it has not been followed by subsequent writers (Leroi-
Gourhan 1982). It may have been unwise to look for a single scheme among
images that spanned thousands of years, and today more attention is paid to
the contents of individual caves. The real importance of his study is its
methodology. Although his empirical observations have been challenged
the entrances to these caves have sometimes changed; his distinction between
passages and chambers is not always convincing; some of the source material
employed by Leroi-Gourhan has proved to be misleading (Ucko and
Figure 4. The distribution of Upper Palaeolithic paintings of animals in the French

cave of Font de Gaume, showing the main groups according to species. The largest
concentrations are indicated in bold.
Figure 5. Upper Palaeolithic paintings at Ekain, illustrating the division between

depictions of horses and those of bison.
Rosenfeld 1967)it was a project which brought together the perspectives of

prehistoric archaeology and structural anthropology and made no attempt to
distinguish between these disciplines.
To a large extent the same has been true in studies of Australian rock art, but
with the important diVerence that some of the decorated caves and rock shelters
are still in use today. In many cases they feature paintings of animals which can
be interpreted as ancestral beings. Their depiction in these places codiWes local
beliefs, and access is carefully controlled. Their interpretation depends on the
testimony of informants. A good example of the use of ethnography is provided
by the strange composite creature known as the Rainbow Serpent. It is associated
with the Dreamtimethe period of the mythical creationand archaeological
evidence suggests that this distinctive image has been painted in Arnhem Land
over a period of six thousand years (Tacon, Wilson, and Chippindale 1996). It
is often associated with paintings of flying foxes and is believed to dwell in the
sea or in deep waterholes. According to Mike Morwood, the serpent is associ-
ated with fertility and the creation of rain (2002: 160).
In other cases it is through archaeology that the paintings and engravings
are interpreted. For instance, in the highlands of Central Queensland it seems
as if hand stencils were located in parts of the caves which would be visible
from a distance, while other decorated panels focused on crevices, shelves
and tunnels that were partly hidden. Those images seem to have been con-
cealed because they were associated with unusual deposits:
At Native Wells a cache of macropod bone and twigs was found immediately behind
an abraded vulva motif . . . The lack of any other art nearby makes it clear that the
vulva, a fertility symbol of universal signiWcance, was deliberately placed next to the
cache. . . . Central Queensland rock art, which emphasizes the vulva motif, is often
associated with burials. (Morwood 2002: 225)
It may be possible to takes this interpretation even further. If the hidden
depictions of vulvas were associated with the dead, were the prominent
paintings of handprints a symbol of the living?
Both these cases use similar methods of analysis to the Palaeolithic ex-
ample. The paintings of the Rainbow Serpent are associated with depictions
of a flying fox, just as Leroi-Gourhan recognized associations between
diVerent species on the walls of French and Spanish caves. There are other
points of comparison, for handprints and vulvas were represented in Europe
as well as Australia. Just as Leroi-Gourhan had claimed that prehistoric
drawings of wild animals were kept separate from those of herbivores, in
Queensland the drawings of handprints were in diVerent locations from those
of vulvas. One group was placed where it could be seen from a distance, while
the other was hidden. The motifs that had been concealed were associated
with human remains. Because of that association Morwood could suggest a

link between fertility and death that is not entirely diVerent from Leroi-
Gourhans reading of the Palaeolithic evidence. Although the signiWcance of
the Rainbow Serpent is documented by ethnographic evidence, the other
patterns have been identiWed by archaeological methods.
T H E AG E N C Y O F A RT WO R K S
Anthropological studies of aesthetic qualities and meanings had little value for
Alfred Gell. At the end of his life he wrote a book, Art and Agency, in which he
attempted to construct an anthropological theory of art (Gell 1998). It was an
ambitious project which in some respects he left incomplete. While his text is
provocative and often witty, some sections are extremely abstruse. Although its
thesis has been criticized (Tanner and Osborne 2007), the study has been
influential. The basic argument is an elaboration of an earlier paper, together
with Wrapping in Images, his account of tattooing in Polynesia published in
1993. Gell accepts the category of art without much question, perhaps because
he was an accomplished artist himself, but he argues that a speciWcally anthro-
pological approach to indigenous art should not be concerned with its meanings
or aesthetics. Just as those who study religions must adopt a methodological
atheism, the anthropologist needs to espouse a methodological philistinism.
Is there a more productive approach than those described so far? Gell
considers that:
An anthropological theory of art is one which looks like an anthropological
theory . . . The aim of an anthropological theory is to make sense of behaviour in
the context of social relations. Correspondingly, the objective of the anthropo-
logical theory of art is to account for the production and circulation of art objects
as a function of this relational context. (Gell 1998: 10)
There is nothing to be gained from studying non-Western art using methods
developed outside social anthropology:
For the anthropology of art to be speciWcally anthropological, it has to proceed on the
basis that, in relevant theoretical respects, art objects are the equivalent of persons, or
more precisely, social agents. (Gell 1998: 7)
Thus his concern is with the agency of artworks. He is not interested in their
qualities or symbolismonly in their eVects. Rather than analyse what
artworks mean, he considers what they do.
For present purposes, the most signiWcant part of Gells book builds on an
article that he had published in 1992: The technology of enchantment and
the enchantment of technology. Its premise is disarmingly simple. Works of
art possess the power to influence the conduct of those who come in contact
with them. They are directed towards an audience whom they are intended to
impress. Indeed, the word impress is not strong enough, for artworks are
mean to enchant the viewer. They do this because they have been made with
unusual virtuosity and because the exercise of such skills possesses something
of the qualities of magic.
Gell uses a bewildering variety of examples to illustrate this idea. One of the
most convincing concerns a widely distributed phenomenon: the depictions
of labyrinths which are found in many diVerent societies. Another is peculiar
to a single ethnographic context: the lavishly decorated prows of canoes in the
Trobriand Islands.
Gell is not concerned with the historical origins of labyrinths or with the
reasons why this form should appear in so many cultures. He is more concerned
with the way in which it is used. In his opinion it is apotropaic; that is to say, it is
used defensively in order to provide protection. Gell argues that patterns with a
hidden logic to their design trap the viewer by their sheer complexity:
One knows that there is a way through the maze; one may even know that the maze is
created by the simple application of an iterative rule in connecting up lines and
points . . . but one cannot, all the same, see ones way through the maze except very
laboriously by tracing out its winding course. (Gell 1998: 88)
Gell suggests that it is for this reason that mazes are so often associated with
the passage between the worlds of the living and the dead. Those worlds are
close together. . . . yet far apart, separated by an impassable frontier (Gell
1998: 90). The same principle applies to body decoration and even to the
decoration of buildings; in every case these intricate patterns baVle potential
adversaries and neutralize the threat they pose. Gell, ever the master of the
unexpected metaphor, characterizes such designs as demonic fly-paper. He
even employs an archaeological exampleone of the few in his booksuggest-
ing that a labyrinth is depicted on the entrance to the Irish megalithic tomb of
Newgrange: a monument which he characterizes as a twisting tunnel leading,
presumably, to the world of the dead (Gell 1998: 87). That is a little inaccur-
ate, for the carved labyrinth is actually a spiral, but the comparison illustrates
the potential of his approach. A better archaeological example is provided
by the Bronze Age house urns of Central Italy (Bartoloni, Bursanelli, DAtri,
and De Santis 1987). These are ceramic models of domestic buildings
and are found in cemeteries. Like the passage grave at Newgrange (OKelly
1982), they contain deposits of cremated human bone. Sometimes their
Figure 6. A Late Bronze Age house urn from Central Italy, emphasizing the
complex decoration on the doorway.
doorways are decorated with complex abstract motifs which resemble those
studied by Gell, but it is not clear whether similar designs had been associated
with the dwellings of the living (Figure 6). This is apparently a case where they
are linked directly with the passage between life and death.
In such cases art was employed to ward oV danger. In other cases its role
was to mesmerize the viewer. Gells most celebrated example of this process is
provided by the decorated canoes of the Trobriand Islands. They are used by
participants in the cycle of competitive exchanges known as the Kula. In this
system social standing depends on attracting as many valuables as possible,
although they must be passed on to other participants through a series of
fresh transactions. In this context it is imperative to overawe those oVering
such goods. Gell suggests that the lavish decoration on the visitors canoes
makes this easier to achieve. He describes it as a means of thought-control:
Sometimes objects are explicitly intended to function as weapons in psychological
warfare: as in the case of the canoe prow-board from the Trobriand Islands. . . . The
intention behind [their] placing. . . . on Kula canoes is to cause the overseas Kula
partners of the Trobrianders, watching the arrival of the Kula flotilla from the shore,
to take leave of their senses and oVer more valuable shells or necklaces to members of
the expedition than they would otherwise be inclined to do. The boards are intended
to dazzle the beholder. (Gell 1992: 44)
Why should the decoration have this eVect? Gell suggests that this is not just a
function of the designs, arresting though they undoubtedly are (Figure 7).
Rather, they are formed with so much skill that their creators must be imbued
with magical powers: an idea which is encouraged by the rituals that accompany
Figure 7. A Trobriand decorated canoe prow and its interpretation.
the making of canoes. His term the technology of enchantment describes the
eVects of the decorated canoes on the people who encounter them. The
enchantment of technology, on the other hand, describes the special powers
that go into the production of these designs. Gell makes this point directly when
he refers to the artist as an occult technician.
This is a novel and intriguing argument, but it is incomplete because it
makes no use of what is known about the meanings of the carved designs. Gell
refers to them in passing, but does not employ them anywhere in his account.
That is unfortunate, for they add weight to his argument. The decoration on
the canoes has been studied by Sheila Campbell (2001), whose research
provided one of the starting points for Gells original analysis. The designs
make visual references to a number of creatures, both real and mythical,
whose characteristics are important to the people who use these vessels.
Three kinds of birds are represented, the osprey, the egret and the bat, all of
which have speciWc connotations. Among them are ideas of wisdom, know-
ledge, skill, success, intelligence, and danger. The mythical creatures, of which
there are also three, have similar associations, as well as the less tangible
qualities of elusiveness, attractiveness and fallibility. Some of these associ-
ations are related to observations of the real worldthe bat is associated with
the night; the osprey is very successful at taking Wshwhile others are
projections of more abstract attributes. Even so, the associations of at least
some of these images would not have been lost on the people who were visited
by the boat crews. Interpretations of this kind would have added to the impact
of the designs described by Gell.
Again it is helpful to compare this study with accounts of archaeological
material. The Battersea Shield was briefly considered in Chapter 1. It belongs
to a small group of lavishly decorated examples recovered from English rivers.
They share certain features in common (Fitzpatrick 2007). Apart from the
earliest example, they are decorated with intricate curvilinear imagery, to-
gether with pairs of enigmatic creatures which combine the attributes of
animals and birds. It is these images that would have confronted an opponent,
but normally they are small and difWcult to identify. What would have
attracted more attention was the virtuosity with which the surface of the
shield had been embellished, the sheen of the metal itself, and an obvious
predilection for the colour red which extends to other weapons of the same
period (Giles 2008). In addition to the Wne decoration that characterized the
boss and spine of the shield, an example from the River Witham includes a
large representation of a boar.
These artefacts are so Wnely made that they were probably intended for
display rather than use in combat, but it is clear that they had circulated over a
signiWcant period of time. Their high quality, imagery, colour, and shining
metal would all have had an impact on those who encountered them. Just
as the use of red materials for decorating weapons may have referred to human
blood (Giles 2008), Frey (1995), and Fitzpatrick (2007) both suggest that the
birds or animals that feature in the decoration were connected with death.
In fact the images found on these shields may have played a dual role. If they
were intended to unnerve an opponent, they also oVered protection to their
owners. This is clear from the earliest of the British Wnds, from Chertsey
(Figure 8). Unusually, the outer face of this example is largely plain, but a
pair of creatures identiWed as dragons is located on either side of the grip.
There are other cases in which the most elaborate decoration occurs on
the outer face of the shield, but in this case when the warrior gripped
the handle . . . he was placing his hand right behind the fantastic animals
on the boss (Fitzpatrick 2007: 344). Perhaps this was believed to keep him
from harm.
Similar ideas are proposed by Tania Dickinson (2005) is a recent study of
early Anglo-Saxon shields. Indeed, the title of her paper refers to symbols of
Figure 8. Paired dragons on the Iron Age shield

from Chertsey, England.
protection. Two parts of these weapons were embellished: the shield boss, and
a series of small metal Wttings, the details of which could only be identiWed at
close quarters (Figure 9). The main images represent predatory birds, aquatic
creatures and dragons, but in this case an additional source of information is
available. This is provided by the earliest literary sources in Northern Europe.
Dickison suggests that it is the protective capacity of Odin. . . . which lies at
the centre of the iconographic web (2005: 160).
The early Anglo-Saxon shields are associated with male burials. Such
weapons seem to have been used in warfare, but it is unlikely that in this
case the decoration was intended to unnerve an opponent. It was too small to
be interpreted except at very close quarters. The contorted animal decoration
has something in common with the labyrinths described by Gell, which, he
suggests, confuse the hostile forces and render them powerless. Dickinson
argues that the use of these visual devices symbolized the role of particular
men as protectors of the community. Thus on a purely practical level the
shield was a defensive weapon employed in Wghting. On another level, its
characteristic decoration acted as a protective device and involved a set of
images that referred to supernatural forces.
Figure 9. Decorated attachment on an

Anglo-Saxon shield from Barrington,
England.
The comparison with the Iron Age evidence is revealing. Both groups of
decorated shields featured a range of distinctive designs, and the earlier
examples were mostly directed towards a potential adversary. They also
oVered protection to the people who carried them, and in that respect they
share certain features in common with their Anglo-Saxon counterparts. Gells
notion of enchantment supports these interpretations, but in both periods
they are strengthened by considering the meanings of the decoration.
To sum up, Gells approach to the anthropology of art certainly provides a
source of inspiration for research in archaeology, but it has its limitations. He
is not concerned with aesthetics, nor does he show much interest in the
semantics of non-Western art. Both these criticisms were made by contribu-
tors to a recent symposium dedicated to his ideas (Osborne and Tanner eds.
2007). If such works are meant to overawe the people who see them, surely it
is important to know how they are interpreted. In rejecting previous ap-
proaches to the anthropology of art, Gell made excessive claims. He even
seems to have rejected sources of information that could have strengthened
his argument. His achievement was to develop a new way of looking at
indigenous art, but there seems no reason to discard other approaches to
this material.
Perhaps Gell took such an extreme position because of his liking for debate.
In a posthumously published essay he discusses his predilection for seminar
culture, which he characterizes as a kind of virtuoso intellectual performance
designed as much to stimulate as to persuade. That is not unlike his charac-
terization of ethnographic art. It is a medium that casts a spell over those who
encounter it. Is it possible that Art and Agency was conceived with the same
idea in mind? In Gells own words:
The seminar is a social occasion, a game, an exchange, an ordeal, an initiation . . . It
more exciting for me to write a paper for presentation at a seminar than it is to write
for an imaginary reader . . . I think of seminar culture as something more central to my
true interests than anything else I have done. (Gell 1999: 2)
Perhaps it is the absence of live debate that makes the argument in Art and
Agency appear over-stated.
A Q U E S T I O N OF CO N TE XT
Gells analysis concerns the eVects of non-Western artworks rather than their
aesthetic qualities. That is only possible because he is able to document the
contexts in which they were used. It depends on participant observation, one
of the most important methods used by social anthropologists. Archaeologists
are denied this opportunity, even in historically documented periods, and
prehistorians are especially impoverished. This is only too apparent from the
various meanings of the word context.
One might suppose that the context of an artwork is the situation in which it
was made and used, for in Gells terms that is when it exerts its power over the
viewer; it has a diVerent kind of agency when it acquires a market value.
Context has another meaning in prehistoric archaeology. It describes the
situation in which an object was discovered, and any other artefacts that were
associated with it. Thus the archaeological context of the Battersea Shield was
the River Thames, and the context of the Gundestrup Cauldron was the surface
of a peat bog. By contrast, the original context of the Basse-Yutz flagons remains
unknown, although two Etruscan stamnoi came from the same deposit.
Similarly, the Battersea Shield was found with a large number of human skulls,
but it has not been established that they entered the river together.
Artefacts may have circulated for a lengthy period between their creation and
their deposition. Like the shields found in English rivers, the Basse-Yutz flagons
were modiWed in the course of their history. Elaborate artefacts could have been
moved over long distances during the course of their lives. That is why it was so
difWcult to work out where the flagons were made, and the same certainly applies
to the controversies over the origin of the Gundestrup Cauldron, which had
been dismantled at some stage before it was discarded in a bog.
These characteristics make it difWcult to carry out the kind of analysis
advocated by Gell, for there are only two opportunities to study such artefacts
in their original contexts. The Wrst concerns their ostensible functions:

weapons may have been made for use in warfare as well as public displays;
cauldrons and flagons were apparently used in feasting. In each case it is
possible to infer something of the audiences who would have encountered
them. The second possibility is provided by the contexts in which they were
discovered by archaeologists. This may yield more secure information, but
it necessarily refers to the Wnal stage in the biography of these particular
objects. Thus the Bass-Yutz flagons were probably buried with the dead, and
that was certainly true of Anglo-Saxon shields. Similarly, the Battersea Shield
and the Gundestrup Cauldron were most likely votive deposits. The problem
is that the role of these artefacts is only apparent as their use came to an end.
Just occasionally there may be a more direct relationship between the
images on a decorated artefact and the circumstances in which it entered
the archaeological record. Despite their lengthy histories, the English Iron Age
shields might have been made with their Wnal deposition in mind. One reason
for suggesting this is their unusual decoration. They feature pairs of fantastic
creatures, which are closely related to prototypes in Continental Europe.
There is also a contrast between them. The Wnds from the European mainland
represent what have been described as dragons, but their English counter-
parts are subtly diVerent: the fantastic animals on the metal-faced shields
appear as birds (Fitzpatrick 2007: 351). Those on a bronze disc found in the
River Bann in Northern Ireland have even been identiWed as swans (Jope
2000: 272). Is it possible that this design was chosen because the Wnished
object was to be deposited in water? If so, the same argument might explain
one element in the decoration on the Battersea Shield. Ruth and Vincent
Megaw suggest that it features a number of human heads (2001: 200). Is it
entirely coincidental that the shield was found together with more than a
hundred skulls?
In other cases visual imagery is associated with prehistoric monuments or
with features of the ancient landscape. They diVer from portable objects
because their locations are Wxed. Their roles may have changed over time
and those images may have been modiWed or replaced, but their original
contexts still survive. Characteristic examples include decorated tombs like
Newgrange, cave paintings, or panels of rock art in the open air. In such cases
it may be possible to investigate the original settings of the designs because
they remain in situ. This can be achieved using the methods of Weld archae-
ology. For that reason it seems paradoxical that such evidence has played
a limited role in studies of prehistoric society. As mentioned in Chapter 1, the
use of this kind of material has all too often been seen as a specialist Weld, cut
oV from the rest of the discipline. It is a missed opportunity.
Figure 10. Outline plans of two Pictish cairns and associated graves at Lundin Links,
Scotland, compared with a decorated stone of the same period from Logie. Both seem
to feature the same design.
Although the painted and carved images may lack the mesmerizing
quality of decorated metalwork or other artefacts, there are often close
connections between them. The same visual images recur in modiWed forms
in both genres. This process happens in many diVerent contexts; some of the
evidence is discussed in Chapters 3 to 8. Thus Late Neolithic ceramics in
Britain share a few motifs with the walls of chambered tombs; the designs
painted in Spanish rock shelters during the Copper Age are also found on
decorated pottery; and the decorated metalwork of the South Scandinavian
Bronze Age has features in common with rock carvings in Denmark, Sweden,
and Norway. At times the range of possible comparisons is even wider and
extends beyond the evidence of decorated artefacts. Nanouschka Myrberg
(2006) has compared the labyrinths of early medieval Scandinavia with the
organization of hill forts; these supposedly defensive enclosures have even
been claimed as representations of dragons. Similarly, in Scotland the ground
plans of two groups of cairns dating from the Wfth or sixth century AD
resemble the motifs carved on Pictish symbol stones (Figure 10).
Comparable designs even feature in the metalwork of the same period.
In this case a common thread links decorated objects made of bronze, carved
rocks and even geogyphs (Williams 2007). The relationships between the
images formed in these diVerent media should shed some light on their
contexts. In certain cases all three may have been used to commemorate
the dead.
PRESENTATION AND RE PRE SE NTATION
Archaeology suVers from certain limitations compared with social anthro-

pology, but are they enough to preclude a more ambitious approach to
ancient art? It is important to understand where archaeologists have most
to oVer and where they are at a disadvantage.
Morphys account of the anthropology of art highlighted four separate
elements. Two of theseaesthetics and semanticshave been discussed al-
ready. He also says that art objects are . . . used for representational or pre-
sentational purposes (1994: 655).
Representation is a complex and controversial topic, but in this case one
element is particularly important. That is the capacity of visual images to
convey information. It is less signiWcant whether the designs are described as
Wgurative or abstract. Every society has its norms according to which pictures
can be read, and what may be incomprehensible to an outsider may be
understood by someone brought up within that tradition. The designs on a
Trobriand canoe may represent ospreys, egrets, and bats, but only to those
people who know how to recognize them. The relationship between an image
and its audience is all-important here.
This has several implications. Distinct styles of visual imagery may be used
concurrently to convey diVerent kinds of information. In Aboriginal Australia
simple geometric designs coexist with elaborate paintings of animals. It would
be easy to assume that these paintings carried most signiWcance, if only because
of their scale and visual complexity. In fact it is the simple non-Wgurative images
that are sometimes sacred (Layton 1991: 191). That is because they cannot be
understood without special knowledge. Indeed, such basic motifs could mean so
many diVerent things that awareness of their signiWcance can be controlled. In
her monograph Walbiri Iconography Nancy Munn (1973) distinguishes between
motifs with a discontinuous meaning range and those whose meaning is
continuous. For example, the Wrst group includes simple outline drawings of
humans, trees and snakes, while the second features even simpler designs that
can only be understood according to the contexts in which they are used. Among
other things, a straight line can stand for a path, a tree trunk, a spear, a backbone
or a Wre, while an unbroken ring can stand for a yam, a waterhole, or a circular
path. In this case the design elements are not abstract in the sense that the link
between the motif and what it stands for is arbitrary, but it is only possible to
read them if one has been taught how to do so; and diVerent people may possess
diVerent levels of skill in interpreting these images.
At the same time, even an apparently naturalistic image can have more than
one level of signiWcance. Thus the meanings of contemporary Australian rock
art change according to the composition of the audience (Morphy 1991).

There are diVerent levels of knowledge which may be acquired over the course
of a lifetime. A painting may have both an inner and an outer meaning, and
they will vary according to the social identity of those who see it; in time some
people may be initiated into the full signiWcance of the imagery, some may
never acquire more than a superWcial understanding, while others may not be
permitted to view it in any circumstances. Some of those distinctions are
based on age and gender. In the same way, supposedly Wgurative images may
also be understood metaphorically. A classic case is provided by the eland
which Wgures prominently in the rock paintings of Southern Africa. An
outsider would be able to identify the species of animal, but would not
know that it was associated with the activities of the shaman and with making
rain (Lewis-Williams 1987).
Too much emphasis can be placed on visual approaches to non-Western
art. Again there is the question of aesthetics. DiVerent raw materials may be
selected for making particular kinds of artworks. The choice may be influ-
enced by their colour, their brilliance or their tactile qualities, but it can also
be influenced by the kinds of sounds that diVerent materials produce. Thus,
in Utah, rocks were selected for painting and carving because of their acoustic
properties. The images were located in places where sound is ampliWed
(Waller 2006). In California, rock art was associated with deposits which
contained quartza mineral with unusual physical propertiesand the same
relationship has been observed in Portuguese prehistory (Whitley, Dorn,
Simon, Rechtman, and Whitley 1999; Alves 2002). Even the colour of a
natural outcrop might have been signiWcant. In Spain there are instances
where Neolithic or Copper Age paintings were attracted to outcrops of red
stone (Diaz-Andreu 2002).
These features are also relevant to the question of presentation, but in this
case it is easier to appreciate the implications of Morphys deWnition of art.
Presentation implies the bringing together of an artwork and an audience in a
way that is closely related to the archaeological notion of context.
Here the main considerations are practical rather than theoretical. It is not
possible for a prehistorian to decide who was allowed to visit certain places or
to view certain images, nor is there any basis for working out who was
forbidden access. On the other hand, the conWguration of the places where
artworks were deposited or displayed can provide clues to the character of the
audience to whom such practices were addressed. Were certain images prom-
inently displayed, and were others concealed from view in the way that
certainly happened in the caves and rock shelters of Central Queensland?
Were there diVerences of size among the diVerent images? Someone who
could recognize the outline of a boar on the Witham Shield might not have
been able to identify the tiny birds heads on the decorated surface.
A signiWcant number of people could examine the images on an Iron Age
sculpture or a weapon, but that could not have happened when similar
designs were made on coins. The Gundestrup Cauldron is only 69 centimetres
in diameter. Even if it held the food for a sizeable gathering, how many people
would have been in any position to trace the narratives illustrated by its
decoration?
Would particular images have been inspected in a speciWc order? That is
certainly the implication of Leroi-Gourhans study of Palaeolithic painted
caves, for certain design elements were created close to the entrance, some
occupied the main chambers, while others were concealed in the deepest
spaces of all (Leroi-Gourhan 1965). At the same time, these locations could
have accommodated diVerent numbers of viewers. It is impossible to say
whether the paintings were inspected by people in single Wle or whether
visitors entered these places as a group, but there is an obvious limit to the
amount of space that was available. Was it necessary to consult certain designs
individually? That is certainly suggested by the conWned spaces in which some
of them were painted. Still more important, was there a discernable relation-
ship between the choice of designs that were used and the audiences who
saw them?
Similar question apply to open-air sites like decorated rock shelters. Here it
is not simply a matter of how many people could view the images on the same
occasion; there is a more basic question of access. Some sites were readily
accessible, close to settlements or paths, but others were hard to Wnd and even
more difWcult to reach. They might be located on cliVs or mountaintops, and
certain places could only be approached along narrow ledges. They would
never have accommodated a large audience, but, still more important, the
local topography meant that it would have been easy to restrict access to these
locations.
Many problems remain. Perhaps the process of creating ancient artworks
was more important than their subsequent history. It is by no means obvious
how long they were intended to last, or whether the careers of those artefacts
that were to end up in burials or votive deposits were predetermined from the
outset. There is no way of telling whether all the images were addressed to a
living audience, for some may have been directed solely to the dead or the
supernatural. The presentation of prehistoric art still poses many problems,
but most of the questions that have been asked here can be investigated by
archaeological methods.
If art has agency in the way that Gell has argued, it can only exercise its
power when it confronts an audience. If artworks are ways of communicating
informationwhether it is sacred or secular, practical or entirely arcanethey
can only do so because people are in a position to interpret them. It is rare for
archaeologists to infer the meanings of ancient images, but there are unusual
instances in which this is possible, and they should not be deterred from doing
so. Where the meanings of ancient artworks continue to elude, it should still be
possible to investigate the contexts in which they were meaningful. That
depends on using archaeology to shed light on the relationship between the
image and its audience. It is an ambitious undertaking, but it provides a
method for enlarging the study of prehistoric art.
Part II
Image and Audience in Megalithic Art
3
Notes from Underground
MEGALITHIC ART: A R EADERS GUIDE
This chapter provides a brief overview of two related phenomena: megalithic

tombs and megalithic art. Their relationship to one another will be consid-
ered in more detail in Chapters 4 and 5 (Figure 11).
Megalithic art is the conventional term for the wide variety of painted and
pecked designs associated with stone-built tombs. It is a well-known feature
of the prehistoric archaeology of Western Europe (Shee Twohig 1981). The
main regions where it occurs are in Spain and Portugal, the west and north
of France, and Ireland, although a few additional examples are known in
Orkney, Wales, and central Germany. Although its distribution is supposed to
follow the Atlantic coastline, recent Weldwork has established that it extends
across large parts of the Iberian Peninsula (Figure 12; Bueno Ramirez and
Balbn Behrmann 2003). Almost half the evidence of decorated tombs comes
from monuments in the Boyne Valley, towards the northern limit of its
distribution (Eogan 1999).
Those tombs take diVerent forms and were not all built at the same time,
although the great majority date from the Neolithic period. Similarly, the
images associated with them are by no means uniform. They can be painted
or carved, and areas of exposed stonework are enhanced by pecking. Most of
the tombs were decorated when they were Wrst built, but there is evidence that
in some cases carvings were altered or replaced and painted surfaces were
renewed (OSullivan 1986; Carrera Ramrez and Fabregas Valcarce 2006).
In certain instances already-decorated stones were introduced when the
monuments were Wrst constructed. They might have been taken from older
structures that had been demolished (Eogan 1998), or they could be sculp-
tures that had stood in the open air. They were incorporated in chambered
tombs either as fragments or in their original forms (Cassen 2000; Bueno
Ramrez and Balbn Behrmann 2006a).
Some of the tombs were painted, while others appear to be decorated entirely
with pecked or incised motifs. That may be deceptive. Marc Devignes (1996) has
pointed out that the distribution of these designs extends across two very
52 Image and Audience in Megalithic Art
Figure 11. The sites and regions discussed in Part II.
diVerent climatic zones. Paintings are found in areas that are drier and warmer;
carvings occur in isolation where conditions are cooler and damper, although
the evidence from north-west Spain does not conform to this pattern. It is
perfectly possible that tombs were originally painted where no evidence survives
today. In that case nothing may remain but the lines used to delimit areas of
pigment. That argument has been proposed to explain the patterns scratched on
the walls of Orkney chambered tombs (Bradley, Phillips, Richards, and Webb
2001), and there is similar evidence from southern Spain (Bueno Ramrez and
Balbn Behrmann 2000a). There is so much variation that the only common
element in megalithic art may be the presence of the megalith itself.
This is a case in which a tradition of ancient art has been deWned by
the contexts in which it is found rather than its characteristic imagery, for the
designs associated with these monuments are extremely diverse. The motifs
Notes from Underground 53
Figure 12. Outline distribution of

megalithic art in Western Europe.
associated with Irish tombs are almost entirely non-Wgurative and any resem-
blance between individual images and the human form may have arisen through
chance. By contrast, it has been argued that the designs found in the Iberian
Peninsula were largely anthropomorphic. They might represent parts of the
body, or even entire bodies. Both these principles are found in north-west
France, but here the earlier tombs also contain depictions of artefacts and
animals, as well as a range of apparently abstract designs. The later tombs in
France introduce still further elements and include human Wgures carved in
relief. In no sense can megalithic art be identiWed through its visual forms (Shee
Twohig 1981; Bueno Ramrez, Balbn Behrmann, and Barroso Bermajo 2007).
FAC ES A N D EY E S
That has not always been accepted. It is one of the ironies of studying
prehistoric art in Europe to Wnd that the history of research owes so much
to one productive scholar. Henri Breuil is best known for his research on
Palaeolithic cave paintings (Breuil 1952), but he was also an authority on the
post-glacial rock paintings of Spain and Portugal which he documented and
discussed in several volumes (Breuil 19335). Given his intellectual energy,
it is not surprising that he turned his attention to megalithic art.
Breuil favoured one all-encompassing explanation for each of these styles.
Thus he interpreted Palaeolithic paintings in terms of hunting magicthat
explained their obvious emphasis on animals. Megalithic art, on the other
hand, was essentially anthropomorphic. Its successive manifestations could be
understood as variations on the human form and, in particular, as represen-
tations of the face (Breuil 1934). O. G. S. Crawford took this even further,
suggesting that the paintings and carvings depicted an Eye Goddess who was
portrayed over a wider area than the distribution of chambered tombs
(Crawford 1957; Figure 13). These ideas were echoed in a still more extreme
form by Marija Gimbutas (1991).
Such views have not found favour among more recent writers, and some
images of the goddess may not have been female after all (Fleming 1969).
Breuils suggestion of a long distance connection between Iberian and Irish
tomb art seems increasingly tenuous, although it has supporters (Bueno
Figure 13. Carved stones from Knockmany, Ireland, interpreted as evidence for an
eye goddess. The motifs considered to represent the human face are emphasized.
Ramrez and Balbn Behrmann 2002). It is easy to appreciate why the idea was so
attractive. Before the advent of radiocarbon dating, it was diYcult to establish
the sequence in which the tombs were built and only too tempting to treat the
most reliably dated and architecturally sophisticated examples as prototypes for
the others. Thus it was commonly supposed that chambered tombs originated in
the Mediterranean and were adopted by communities in Western Europe as part
of the same process as the development of farming. The adoption of cereals and
domesticated animals presupposed the movement of people, so the diVusion of
megalithic monuments was interpreted in similar terms. The links between
diVerent areas were emphasised by common religious beliefs, and, for Breuil
and some of his contemporaries, they were expressed by a single style of art.
The work of Glyn Daniel epitomises this line of thought, although radio-
carbon dating led him to modify his views in later life. Concluding his book
The Megalith Builders of Western Europe, he said this:
We have been concerned with one area and one timewestern Europe between 2500
and 1000 bc. The main answer to [the megalithic] problem is the spread of chamber
tombs and collective burial from the east Mediterranean to the west, and the diVusion
of the megalithic version of these tombs through western Europe. . . . In our. . . . dis-
cussion of what is meant by the spread of tombs it is possible to forget that behind
these movements there are not only people, but human beings who were intrepid
navigators. (Daniel 1958: 125)
MEGA LITH IC E NQUIRIE S
Problems developed once radiocarbon dates became available. The Wrst is that
the chronology of megalithic tombs was too conservative. Because scholars like
Daniel postulated connections with the Minoan and Mycenaean worlds, the
age of such monuments had been underestimated. He also stressed the role of
burial caves in the Aegean, but they cannot have provided the prototypes for
stone-built tombs which now appear to have originated in the Wfth millennium
bc rather than the third. In most regions it was during the third millennium
that the latest tombs were constructed (Joussaume, Laporte, and Scarre eds.
2006; Bueno Ramrez, Balbn Behrmann, and Barroso Bermajo 2007).
The second problem arises from this observation. The oldest dates for
megalithic tombs come from sites in Atlantic Europe rather than their
supposed predecessors in the Mediterranean. It is no longer so clear quite
when and where the Wrst examples were built, but there can be no doubt that
they were the creation of communities in Western Europe. Renfrew (1973)
has suggested that the idea of building these structures might have been
developed independently in a number of diVerent regions, but this view has

not been substantiated by detailed analysis.
That is because of a third problem raised by radiocarbon dating. It would
be inaccurate to talk of a horizon of tomb building along the Atlantic
coastline, but it is certainly the case that the oldest monuments were built
in the middle to late Wfth millennium bc. This is apparent in Portugal, Spain
and France. The building of these monuments intensiWed around 4000 bc
when the earliest examples in the west of Ireland were constructed. It hap-
pened at about the same time as the Wrst use of domesticates, but it is not clear
that the two processes occurred simultaneously, for there are examples of
early chambered tombs that were built on top of older Neolithic settlements.
The distribution of these monuments did not show the gradual expansion
from south to north that the diVusionist framework required. If anything,
it seems more likely that there were periods of fairly rapid change, punctuated
by phases in which few new developments took place. Thus the Wrst tombs
in southern and western Iberia were probably contemporary with those in
north-west France; the Wrst Irish tombs represent a second phase; and those
in Britain and Northern Europe probably illustrate a third (Joussaume,
Laporte, and Scarre eds. 2006).
Another problem arises from the results of radiocarbon dating. In the
absence of other evidence the ground plans of megalithic tombs had been
studied in detail. The individual monuments had been sorted into types, and
prehistorians had tried to work out the most logical ways in which their
architecture might have developed, using similar principles to the analysis of
portable artefacts. In a few cases they could test these schemes against strati-
graphic evidence for the construction and modiWcation of particular tombs.
They could also study the objects associated with these sites. One fundamental
distinction was between closed chambers which were inaccessible once they
were covered by a mound or cairn, and other mortuary structures which could
still be visited. The chamber might be reached by an entrance leading directly
into the tomb, or in the case of passage graves it might be separated from the
exterior by a kind of tunnel or corridor. It was generally agreed that the closed
chambers were older than the other monuments.
Although this sequence can be identiWed at individual sites, it may not have
the general application that was once supposed. Instead it is likely that a variety
of very diVerent structures existed at the same time as one another and that the
main chronological developments were local ones. That is certainly the impli-
cation of a growing body of radiocarbon dates, particularly those from south-
west Iberia, north-west France and southern Sweden where it is diYcult to relate
the accepted tomb typologies to a succession of chronological phases (Bueno
Ramrez, Balbn Behrmann, and Barroso Bermajo 2007; Scarre 2002; Persson
and Sjogren 1995). It runs counter to the traditional ways of analysing these
monuments, and the full implications of the new dating evidence have still to be
assimilated. At present it is in Brittany that the sheer variety of overlapping
practices is most apparent (Scarre 2007a).
In contrast to the diVusionist scheme which would favour the gradual
adoption of structural devices between neighbouring regions, some of the
closest architectural links are between areas that were farther apart. The same
applies to a few of the artefacts found in megalithic tombs, and to the
paintings and carvings associated with these monuments.
There are structural similarities between the Wrst passage graves in Britain
and Ireland and examples in north-west France, but these tombs are without
any decoration (Bradley 2007a: 4950). There are other links between build-
ings associated with megalithic art. Thus the stepped exteriors of mounds
and cairns in Orkney recall the forms of Breton monuments (Davidson and
Henshall 1989), and George Eogan (1990) has drawn attention to equally
striking similarities between the architecture of passage graves in Ireland and
northern Portugal. In each case they are conWned to the organization of the
tombs and do not extent to the designs associated with them. Eogan has also
claimed that there are artefacts of Iberian origin or inspiration in the cham-
bered tombs of the Boyne Valley, and again the resemblance is strong enough
to suggest a connection between those regions
Although Breuil saw similarities between anthropomorphic images in
Ireland and Iberia, they have not convinced many subsequent writers. That
is partly because of doubts about the identiWcation of human features among
the designs. On the other hand, there may be links between Irish megalithic
art and the motifs associated with a selection of monuments in north-west
France. Muiris OSullivan (1996) has argued that they developed in parallel in
both areas, but, while the visual resemblance is undeniable, such images are
relatively uncommon. Otherwise the best parallels for some of the motifs
associated with Breton monuments are not with Ireland, which was readily
accessible by sea, but with a series of structures in the Portuguese Alentejo
(Calado 2002: 2531). These are arrangements of standing stones which bear
a certain resemblance to the megalithic enclosures of the Morbihan in south-
ern Brittany, but in this case the potential connection is plausible because they
are decorated in a similar style. Other claims for long distance links are much
less credible and recall the ambitious typological schemes that were created
before radiocarbon dates became available. The clearest example is a study by
Goran Burenhult (2001) who identiWes the same motifs in Ireland, south
Scandinavia and the Neolithic temples of Malta.
It is the fact that there are so few explicit links between chambered tombs along
the Atlantic seaboard that makes it diYcult to propose a single interpretation of
megalithic art. There is an obvious distinction between the non-Wgurative

imagery found in Ireland and occasionally in France, and the representations
of people, animals and artefacts in regions further to the south. There are also
contrasts in the ways in which the same designs were used in diVerent regions.
The chambered tombs of Spain and Portugal provide an obvious example
Bueno Ramrez and Balbn Behrmann (2006a) have argued that many of
the images in Iberian passage graves depict the human form. It is represented
in a number of diVerent media, from freestanding sculptures to paintings, and
similar designs occur in miniature on decorated plaques and idols. Although
these images have much in common with one another, they can be organised
in very diVerent ways. Thus the tombs which have been studied in southern
Spain feature a series of separate motifs distributed at speciWc points within
the structure of the monument. Each is independent of the others. In north-
ern Portugal, however, related images were sometimes painted as a continu-
ous frieze which extended across the separate orthostats, with the principal
designs at the rear of the chamber (Figure 14; Jorge 1997). The individual
motifs share features in common between these regions, but even within the
Iberian Peninsula they could be arranged according to local conventions. For
Figure 14. The organization of the painted designs inside the Portuguese passage
grave of Antelas. The more complex decoration is furthest into the interior.
that reason it would be wrong to suggest that both groups of monuments

were decorated in the same style.
ACC ESSIBL E ARC HITE CTURE
Before discussing these images in detail it is worth saying more about the
buildings in which they occur.
The architecture of most megalithic tombs depends on a few simple
principles. These structures take three distinct forms in relation to the local
topography. Burial chambers might be erected on the ground surface and left
exposed without any covering monument. They include what may have been
the earliest examples in Wales and Ireland (Bradley 2007a: 4950). Alterna-
tively, they could be buried by mounds which marked their position in the
wider landscape. That is the most common situation, but there are also
examples where the same kind of structure was excavated into the subsoil
so that the site was hidden from view. In this case a single architectural form
was rendered in two diVerent media. In some places the tomb was built of
stone; in others, it was dug out of the bedrock (Tarrete 1996; Villes 1997).
If tombs could be hidden or displayed, they could also be accessible or
inaccessible. Most structures were provided with entrances and sometimes
with passages leading to a chamber, or chambers, but others lacked these
features entirely. There were also cases in which access was controlled by
manoeuvring a blocking stone to close the entrance, or even by the construc-
tion of temporary walling. As a result, the architecture of the tombs empha-
sized the distinction between those who were allowed inside them and those
who were not admitted.
The Wrst students of megalithic architecture recognized another distinc-
tion. Just as passage graves were tombs in which the chamber was approached
down a kind of tunnel, the gallery graves, which developed during a subse-
quent phase, were monuments whose interior was readily accessible from
outside. In practice these categories overlap, but the distinction remains
important. In northern France these kinds of architecture were employed
in succession (LHelgouach 1996; Boujot, Cassen, and Vaquero Lastres 1998;
Le Quellec 2006) and the same seems to be true in Ireland, but in Orkney
the usual sequence is reversed and the monuments most closely related to
gallery graves predate the classic passage graves (Davidson and Henshall
1989). In the Iberian Peninsula passage graves had an exceptionally long
history, but were constructed in diVerent ways at diVerent times; it was the
latest and most elaborate tombs with corbelled chambers that had been
compared with monuments in the Aegean. They date from the third millen-
nium bc (Bueno Ramrez, Balbn Behrmann, and Barroso Bermajo 2007).
The term gallery grave itself has gone out of favour, but the classiWcation of
chambered tombs remains important in working out how these buildings
were used.
There is one way in which both kinds of structures are related to megalithic
art. Although the decoration of the stone-built tombs may have taken many
forms, it is a feature of those examples with entrances and/or passages;
it hardly features in the monuments with closed chambers (Figure 15).
The decorated tombs were those that people could visit over a signiWcant
period of time, and that may be one reason why certain of the carvings were
altered and some of the images were repainted. It does not mean that the
designs were necessarily addressed to a living audience, but it certainly raises
that possibility. Nearly all the decorated tombs were directed towards the
south or east, meaning that the entrance could have been illuminated by
the sun (Hoskins 2001). The same observation applies to most traditions of
undecorated monuments. The only exceptions to the general trend were
towards the limits of the chronological and geographical distribution of
these structures. Thus several groups of passage graves in the Mediterranean
faced west rather than east, and so did some of the latest megalithic monu-
ments in Scotland and Ireland (Bradley 2007a: 1734).
Figure 15. The Portuguese passage grave of Anta de Cerqueira.

There are two ways of thinking about the orientations of these buildings.
As visitors to these monuments, contemporary archaeologists usually con-
sider how people would have viewed the designs inside them. They emphasize
the passage of sunlight into the tomb, but it is easy to forget that for most of
the time the light would be fairly weak and would not travel far along the
passage. It may be just as important to consider the view from the chamber
itself. The only source of illumination was through the entrance which could
have been some distance away. If that view was obstructed, the centre of the
building would have been in darkness and any burials inside it would have
been cut oV from the outside world (Figure 16). That has important impli-
cations for the relationship between the dead and the living.
These simple principles were obviously exploited in the course of the arch-
aeological sequence. Towards the northern limit of the distribution of passage
graves, a number of outstanding examples were aligned on the sun at the
solstices. That may also have happened at the equinoxes, although this is more
controversial. These alignments are mainly a feature of Irish passage graves, but
they have also been identiWed in Orkney, Anglesey, the Channel Islands, and
Brittany. Where the tombs are well preserved, direct observation has shown that
the rays of the sun reach into the central chamber (Ruggles 1999: chapter 8).
That is especially important as all these structures had been decorated.
Figure 16. The flow of light inside chambered tombs, showing the areas
illuminated by sunlight and those remaining in shadow.
There were other ways of controlling the movement of light into the interior
of a chambered tomb. The entrance or the passage might be constricted by a
stone slab breached by what is sometimes described as a porthole. This could
have acted rather like a lens and would have focused the Xow of light from the
exterior. At the same time that passage could change direction and might not
lead straight to the chamber. In that case the movement of light would be
obstructed and large areas would remain in darkness. That is most obvious
with the angled passage graves of Brittany. The same is true of other monu-
ments in the same region, for sometimes an elongated chamber runs at right
angles to the entrance passage (LHelgouach 1965: chapters 10 and 11). In each
case they were built after passage graves of the classic form.
How were these architectural devices related to the decoration of the tombs?
In certain cases it seems likely that sunlight travelled far enough along the
entrance passage to illuminate the decoration in the chamber. That may be
why the most striking images in the passage graves of northern Portugal were
painted on the backstone opposite the entrance to the monument (Jorge
1997). The same was also true of the most lavishly decorated tombs in Ireland.
Among the images that were emphasized in this way were those at threshold
between the passage and the chamber. The light also picked out some of the
carved stone basins in the heart of the Irish tombs (Brennan 1983).
Just as certain surfaces would be lit by the sun, others would have remained
in darkness (Figure 17). Although some designs might have been identiWed
as light was reXected oV the chamber wall, they could only be examined in
detail with the help of artiWcial illumination. If a naked Xame was used, the
Figure 17. The flow of light inside Cairn T at Loughcrew, Ireland. The decorated
surfaces are indicated in black, and the shaded areas are those which could not
illuminated directly by the sun.
designs on the walls would appear to be in motion (Nash 2007). Particular

paintings or carvings might have been placed well away from the axis of the
entrance, on the hidden sides of individual stones, or even in recesses set back
from the principal chamber. Moreover, the passage of the human body in or
out of the tomb would have interrupted the Xow of light, impeding visibility
and casting shadows. The very structure of these tombs must have meant that
movement was constrained. People had to pass through the monuments in a
particular order, and it is clear that few of these places could have accommo-
dated many visitors. As was the case in Palaeolithic painted caves, the very
structure of these monuments must have meant that the images on their walls
were seen in sequence (J. Thomas 1992).
In those monuments where the passage does not lead directly to the
chamber the movement of light from the entrance is curtailed, and large
areas remain in darkness. This can give rise to dramatic eVects. For instance,
in Brittany the decoration associated with such monuments features what
appear to be strange anthropomorphic creatures. They are depicted in both
the passage and the chamber, but a more important distinction is between the
carvings in the area that would have been illuminated from outside and those
located in the remainder of the monument. The hidden designs are especially
dramatic because they can be larger than the others (Figure 18).
Figure 18. The chambered tomb at Goerem, Brittany, distinguishing between the
areas that would have received some light from outside and those that would have
remained in darkness. The carved designs are larger in the latter area.
The opposite situation can be identiWed in the megalithic tombs that lack
an entrance passage, in particular, French allees couvertes. These structures are
generally divided into two parts: an elongated rectangular chamber which
housed the remains of the dead, and a small antechamber which is sometimes
separated from it by a porthole slab or a narrow entrance. In this case it is the
antechamber that is most often decorated; although some images do occur
elsewhere, they are generally smaller than the others (Shee Twohig 1981).
The main designs are clearly anthropomorphic and consist of schematic
representations of the female form, often a pair of breasts linked by a necklace
(Figure 19). They would be readily identiWable at the entrance to the tomb
and could well have been seen by people who were not allowed inside the
principal chamber. Other images were depicted on these sites, not all of which
can be identiWed, but carvings of hafted axes are certainly found at the
Figure 19. Two French tombs featuring female imagery. The arrows indicate the
source of light from the exterior. La Pierre Turquaise was built at ground level, and
Razet 23 was excavated into the subsoil. In each case the main designs are close to
the entrance.
entrance and in the deeper spaces of the interior. Allees couvertes were
normally conspicuous Weld monuments, but the same kind of structure was
also created below ground (Tarrete 1996; Villes 1997). In this case the
organization of the images was more rigidly controlled but conformed to
the same conventions. The main diVerence is that they would have received
less natural illumination. The contrast is not unlike that between conven-
tional passage graves and angled passage graves.
T H E M I N D I N T H E TOM B
Henri Breuils notion of a prehistoric religion has gone out of favour, but
there is another interpretation which considers the wide distribution of
megalithic tombs together with the images found inside them. This is the
thesis advanced by David Lewis-Williams and David Pearce (2005) in their
book Inside the Neolithic Mind.
Their approach builds on Lewis-Williams earlier study of Palaeolithic art,
The Mind in the Cave (Lewis-Williams 2002). In each case the reference to the
mind is all important, for central to both these studies is the signiWcance of
altered states of consciousness. They can be brought about by many agencies,
from rhythmic dancing to the taking of drugs, and from fatigue to sensory
deprivation. In every case the important point is that these processes aVect the
nervous system in a similar way. That is because all human beings share the
same neuropsychology. Certain sensations are recorded in very diVerent
cultures, including the illusion of Xight, a sense of falling or descent, and,
most important of all, the experience of travelling through a tunnel or vortex.
The latter is also associated with near-death experiences.
These sensations are reported in many diVerent societies because they are
created in the nervous system. To some extent they can be reproduced under
laboratory conditions. Although they may be provided with a scientiWc explan-
ation, for the people who undergo these experiences they have a profound sign-
iWcance. They are subject to diVerent interpretations, but one of the commonest
ways of accounting for them is in terms of a three-tier cosmology, in which the
familiar world is only one of a series of superimposed planes. There is also an
upper world, which is evidenced by the sensation of Xight, and there is a lower
world into which people descend (Chippindale, Smith, and Tacon 2000). Often
there are special places where it is possible to make the transition. They include
mountains which reach into the sky, and caves that lead to the underworld. In fact
caves are especially important for they recreate the eVect of a vortex. The best-
known accounts of these phenomena concern the experiences of shamans, whose
role it is to travel between the diVerent levels of the cosmos. That is as true of the
shamans of the Arctic, where the term originates, as it is of other peoplenot
necessarily religious specialistswho describe similar journeys (N. Price 2001).
It is signiWcant that Lewis-Williams had Wrst studied Palaeolithic art. The
caves in which many of the images are found have much in common with
the features perceived in altered states of consciousness. As well as bodily
hallucinations, the subject experiences intense visual eVects which are also
generated by the nervous system. Again they are shared from one culture to
another as they originate inside the brain. They are sometimes described as
entoptic phenomena. The forms that are commonly observed are called
phosphenes (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988).
Lewis-Williams and Dowson have sought to deWne these shapes and the
ways in which they were changed. There was a transformation in the character
of these visual eVects as the subject entered deeper states of trance. Thus they
might begin as simple geometric patterns, but ultimately they could be
interpreted as realistic images. That would account for the combination of
abstract signs and painted animals that Wgure in Palaeolithic art. Such images
would vary from one society to another because people were reXecting their
own concerns when they construed these visions.
Many aspects of this interpretation have been controversial. The phos-
phenes are simple geometric forms and not everyone is convinced of their
signiWcance. Might they have been depicted by chance? Was Palaeolithic
art such a unitary phenomenon that it can be explained by one hypothesis?
Did diVerent methods of inducing altered states of consciousness result in
diVerent kinds of visions (DronWeld 1995a)? There is uncertainty whether
shamanism should be described as a cross-cultural phenomenon, or whether
the term applies only to the region in which it took its name (Kehoe 2000).
It is not surprising that Lewis-Williamss and Pearces account of Neolithic
beliefs has been equally contentious (Le Quellec 2006).
As the dust jacket says, Inside the Neolithic Mind continues the . . . story of The
Mind in the Cave. The book is in two parts, prefaced by an introductory section
which discusses the relationship between human consciousness and ancient
cosmology. The Wrst detailed case study concerns the Neolithic of Anatolia
and Western Asia and is primarily an account of settlements and shrines like
Catalhoyuk and Gobekli Tepe. The second is an analysis of megalithic tombs.
Lewis-Williams and Pearce state their hypotheses at the outset:
The west European monuments reXected and at the same time constituted, with
greater or lesser elaboration, a culturally speciWc expression of the neurologically
generated tiered cosmos. (Figure 20)
Figure 20. A Neolithic passage grave interpreted in terms of the three-tier cosmology.
That cosmos was mediated by a complex system of symbols through which people
represented and engaged with it.
The neurologically wired concept of Xight and passage through a vortex help us to
understand the ways in which the massive stone monuments of the west functioned in
their social and mythical contexts.
The ways in which the monuments were laid out reXected and controlled social
distinctions that were, in turn, related to neurologically wired concepts. (Lewis-
Williams and Pearce 2005: 171)
It is interesting that some of these ideas were Wrst propounded in a study of
decorated caves, for it was long believed that caves and underground burial
chambers provided the source of inspiration for the earliest megalithic tombs
(Daniel 1958). That view is no longer tenable, for the two phenomena rarely
occur at the same time or in the same areas. Either they are found in diVerent
regions, or the cave burials are later in date than the Wrst megaliths (Soler Daz
2002). Even so, the comparison is provocative and still remains important.
T H E TO M B I N TH E M I N D
Lewis-Williams and Pearce provide an interpretation that should apply to all

megalithic tombs. Can the argument be sustained?
The Wrst point to make is that their case is based on passage graves in Wales,
Ireland, and Brittany. They do not draw on the evidence from South-West
Europe, nor does their analysis consider other kinds of chambered tombs.
That is unfortunate, for it is obvious that among the oldest of these monu-
ments are structures with closed chambers. This raises questions concerning
the special signiWcance of the tunnel leading between the exterior and the
interior. The cairn and the burial chamber might represent the upper and
lower tiers of the cosmos, but the vortex that features so prominently in
Lewis-Williamss and Pearces account was not present at every site.
On the other hand, the pecked designs found in Irish passage graves do
conform to their scheme. Jeremy DronWeld (1995b) has compared the motifs
in chambered tombs with three control samples taken from other art styles.
One came from societies whose members are known to have entered altered
states of consciousness. The second sample came from peoples who did not
engage in similar practices, while the third was associated with communities
for which the evidence is more ambiguous. DronWeld recognised that certain
images were only present in the Wrst of these categories and distinguished
them from the motifs found in the other traditions (Figure 21). On that basis
he provided a more exact deWnition of the phosphenes discussed by Lewis-
Williams and other writers. He also distinguished them from less specialized
forms. The repertoire associated with altered states of consciousness matched
the designs in the Irish tombs, while the other art styles did not. One
particularly telling comparison was between the spirals associated with the
entrance passage at Newgrange and the vortex described in ethnographic and
clinical accounts (DronWeld 1996). This is particularly intriguing as the motifs
towards the base of the entrance stone appear incomplete, as if they were
thought to continue beneath the monument itself (Figure 22; Shee Twohig
2000).
The Irish evidence certainly supports the interpretation favoured by Lewis-
Williams and Pearce, but even here there is a problem. Since DronWelds
research was carried out, renewed investigation of the principal tomb at
Knowth has shown that the pecked motifs that he had studied were not the
earliest designs there. They were superimposed on a network of Wnely incised
lines which delimited a series of panels composed mainly of triangles and
lozenges (Eogan 1997). They are quite diVerent from the images considered in
his study. They do not include any circles or spirals; nor do they show the
Figure 21. Phosphenes apparently associated with megalithic art.

Figure 22. The entrance stone at Newgrange, Ireland.
same emphasis on phosphenes. If the megalithic art of the Boyne Valley did
refer to altered states of consciousnessand the case is certainly suggestive
this association may not have been present when the tombs were Wrst con-
structed. In the circumstances it is a moot point whether the architecture of
these monuments refers to a three tier cosmology.
If the strongest arguments in favour of the hypotheses put forward by
Lewis-Williams and Pearce are provided by megalithic art, their account is
limited to Ireland, Wales, and Brittany, and only the tombs of the Boyne Valley
are considered in any detail. The images in north-west France include fewer
motifs that can be interpreted as entoptic imagery, and in Portugal and Spain
they are by no means common. The phosphenes identiWed by DronWeld may
have been a local phenomenon.
It is worth recalling some of the widely shared characteristics of passage
graves. Their chambers would have been cold and inaccessible, and for much
of the time they would also have been dark. The interiors of these structures
must have been lit by lamps or torches which would create the illusion that
the walls were in constant motion. Like caves, they would induce a feeling of
sensory deprivation, especially if people were to remain there at night or for
signiWcant lengths of time. The entrance passage was often low and narrow
and was diYcult to traverse. Negotiating this space would have added to the
drama of visiting the tomb, and so would the presence of human remains
inside the monuments. In these circumstances the people who visited the
dead might have been unusually suggestible.
Passage graves have a further characteristic which has become apparent in
recent years. The monuments have unusual acoustics (Watson 2001; Watson
and Keating 2000). Activities in a long narrow passage and high stone
chamber produce distinctive sound eVects. The pitch of the human voice
seems to be raised or lowered in diVerent parts of the building, and the
chamber has a striking resonance. Such eVects disconcert the visitor and
even create auditory hallucinations. Rhythmic chanting or drumming
would have been even more dramatic, for at certain frequencies people
could have entered altered states of consciousness. Of course such practices
are entirely hypothetical, but the physical basis of such experiences is well
documented (Cook, Pajot, and Leuchter 2008), and the same is true of the
behaviour of sound inside this kind of structure.
The last two examples emphasize characteristics of the chambered tombs
that are all too rarely described. They are often secluded, dark and cold, and
they have unusual acoustics. All these features might have encouraged the
kinds of experience that Lewis-Williams inferred for Palaeolithic caves. That
comparison is particularly important, for those caves were natural features of
the local geology. However they might have been interpreted in the past, they
contain archaeological evidence because they were selected for use by prehis-
toric people. There is no reason to suppose that megalithic tombs were
modelled on burial caves, and in any case these structures were designed and
built by human labour. Indeed, they were frequently constructed on a monu-
mental scale.
It is most unlikely that passage graves were built in order to contrive
particular acoustic eVects. That would require a knowledge of theoretical
physics. It seems much more likely that certain unusual phenomena were
experienced by people entering these buildings (Watson 2006). Once that had
happened, there is no reason why these features should not have been treated as
one of the characteristics of the tombs. In the same way, the secluded chambers
of the passage graves might have created the ideal conditions for entering altered
states of consciousness, but it is perhaps too subtle to suggest that they were
built for that purpose. In turn it would imply that the designs inside the Irish
tombs referred to the experiences of the living when they visited these places.
The discovery that passage graves had unusual properties could account for
some of the problems raised by Lewis-Williamss and Pearces account.
It could explain why entoptic imagery is not associated with all, or even
most, of the decorated monuments. Because it was never integral to the
concept of a megalithic tomb, it seems to have been mainly a feature of one
region, and when it occurs elsewhere it need not have taken exactly the same
form. That is because it could have developed independently in several parts

of Europe. A similar argument would account for the distinctive sequence in
the main monument at Knowth, where the earliest decoration has a diVerent
character from the phosphenes identiWed by DronWeld. Such designs were a
secondary development and were not created until the tombs had already been
in use for some time. Still more important, this approach would explain why
passage graves could coexist with monuments containing closed chambers
where the idea of a tunnel or vortex would not have any relevance. Megalithic
art may have been employed in a variety of diVerent ways, and only locally
need it have referred to altered states of consciousness.
DISCUSSION: THE ART GALLERIES OF THE DEAD
So far this account has drawn attention to a set of contrasting relationships

between particular kinds of images and speciWc kinds of monuments. They
can also be used to shed light on the relationship between those images and
their audience.
It is easy to lose sight of such connections. There are huge numbers of
megalithic tombs, and it is obvious that more have been destroyed. On the
other hand, the proportion of decorated monuments is increasing as add-
itional examples are identiWed by Weldwork. Radiocarbon dating suggests that
the history of these structures spanned nearly two thousand years. Although
many points remain obscure, some general patterns can be identiWed.
The Wrst of these is so obvious that it often passes without comment.
Megalithic art, of whatever variety, is a feature of tombs that could have
been visited by the living. It is not a characteristic of closed chambers, and for
that reason it seems unlikely that it was directed exclusively to the dead. That
is not to say that the designs were intended solely for the living as they are
often located in close proximity to human remains. Rather, they might have
been addressed to both kinds of audience.
There is also a striking relationship between the character of the designs
and their placing inside the monuments. That is particularly true of the small
selection of non-Wgurative motifs that have been identiWed as phosphenes.
They have an uneven distribution, with most examples towards the northern
limit of the distribution of megalithic art and signiWcantly fewer to the south.
Even so, they are virtually restricted to those monuments where the burial
chamber was distanced from the outside world. They are associated with
passage graves, often those with long tunnels leading into the interior, and are
hardly found in more accessible monuments. Not only were these specialized
designs placed in secluded locations, they had to be accessed by a passage.

It recalls the vortex that plays such a prominent role in Lewis-Williamss and
Pearces interpretation.
These designsand other, less distinctive abstract motifswere some-
times placed in prominent positions where they might be illuminated by
sunlight at particular times of the day, or on particular days in the year. More
often they were concealed and occupied the parts of the chamber that would
remain in shadow. Indeed, the contrasts between the forms illuminated by the
sun and those that remained hidden might have been an important element
in the organization of the tombs.
This introduces another important issue. Although most passage graves
were aligned on the sun, only a few examples emphasised the turning points
of the year. On such occasions a beam of intense light travels along the passage
to illuminate the burial chamber. That relationship has been interpreted in
terms of fertility and renewal. The eVect seems to be most common in the
monuments with carved designs. It is often supposed that solstitial and
equinoctial alignments are a speciWcally Irish phenomenon, but they have
also been observed in Orkney, north Wales, the Channel Islands, and Brittany
(Ruggles 1999: chapter 8). All the monuments had been decorated.
There is evidence for anthropomorphic images in other chambered tombs
in France, Portugal, and Spain. They will be considered in greater detail in
Chapter 4, but one point is worth making at this stage. Such images could be
more or less naturalistic, so that sometimes it is hard to identify the human
form; in other cases it is unmistakeable. Certain of these depictions were
extremely schematic and might even be embellished with abstract designs.
Again there is a direct relationship between the character of these paintings
and carvings and the contexts in which they were seen. The more schematic
the anthropomorphic paintings and carvings, the more likely they are to be
found in secluded locations. They are a special feature of the passage graves.
Some of these images were on the backstone, facing the entrance passage, but
others may have been placed at the threshold of the chamber. Unless they
formed part of a continuous frieze, they tend to occur in isolation, and it
would have been necessary to view them by artiWcial light in order to pick out
their characteristic features. That is how they have been recognized in recent
years, for they can only be identiWed by careful observation. Of course the
process would have been simpler if some of the incised and carved designs
were originally painted, but such evidence rarely occurs even where pigment
should be preserved. Perhaps it was intended that these representations
should be hard to locate and diYcult to interpret. That is certainly true in
Iberia where entire bodies were represented. It was also the case in France,
where some of the images had originally stood in the open air and had been
reduced to fragments before they were built into the tombs. Again this process
will be considered in the following chapter.
Such schematic and fragmented images are often found in association with
non-Wgurative designs. They contrast with the more naturalistic images which
are a striking feature of French allees couvertes and their subterranean
counterparts (Tarrete 1996; Villes 1997). Although they can be accompanied
by motifs which have been hard to identify, there seems little doubt that some
of them represent actual objects. The anthropomorphic images are promin-
ently displayed and are associated with the entrances of the tombs where they
could have been seen by many people. In this case they do not appear to be
found with abstract signs, although they can be accompanied by drawings of
personal ornaments. Most were readily accessible. They must have posed
fewer problems of interpretation than the more schematic Wgures employed
during earlier phases.
The siting of anthropomorphic images close to the entrances of allees
couvertes introduces another issue. They would have been visible to a signiW-
cant number of people and were not directly associated with the dead. They
would only have confronted the corpse as it was introduced to the tomb.
Some of the largest and most impressive passage graves in Ireland take this
process even further, for at quite a late stage in their development they were
provided with decorated kerbs (Eogan 1998). Not only were the entrances
embellished with abstract designs, the decoration continued around the
perimeter of the monuments. It seems likely that it was addressed to a larger
audience than those who could enter the tomb.
Although there are certain contrasts between the images in these two
groups, it may be more important to emphasize a diVerence of technique,
as it has implications for how the designs were to be viewed. At three points
around the decorated kerb at Newgrange there are elaborately carved kerb-
stones. The images are moulded to the contours of the rock. They are
prominent and conWdently executed and are easy to recognize from a distance
(OKelly 1982; OSullivan 1986). For that reason they might have been
addressed to a larger audience than their equivalents in the chamber.
One of these formal designs is at the entrance to the tomb and another is
directly opposite it at the back of the mound. Still more striking eVects can
be seen at the neighbouring site of Knowth, where the decorated kerbstones
are longer towards both entrances of the largest tomb (OSullivan 2006). Here
the visual impact of some of the more prominent designs is enhanced because
they are Xanked by kerbstones which had been left undecorated; in other cases
the composition is framed by stones with simpler designs. George Eogan
(1996) has identiWed six such panels in the kerb of the large passage grave at
Knowth, Wve of them on the east side of the monument, where they would
have been illuminated by the morning sun.
Inside Newgrange and Knowth there are some stones with equally elaborate
decoration, and on the latter site one group of rectilinear designs is restricted
to the inner section of both the passages and the chambers (Eogan 1986).
At Newgrange, however, other motifs are more diYcult to recognize because
of their positions inside the monument or because they were not carved to
the same depths as their counterparts in the kerb. Certain of the designs
are clearly superimposed on one another and others are partly hidden by
the structure of the monument, perhaps because they were reused from an
older building. There are cases in which particular images were wholly
or partly obliterated and replaced by areas of pecking (Eogan and Aboud
1990). The overall eVect appears Xuid, even chaotic, especially when the
interior is illuminated by the midwinter sunrise (Cochrane 2005 and 2006).
Something similar may have happened at the east tomb at Knowth during
the spring equinox (Brennan 1983), but many of these designs would be
hidden from view in the darker parts of the chamber and would need lighting
if they were to be seen at all. At Newgrange the decoration of the kerbstones
shows a similar level of disorder, but at Knowth the situation is subtly
diVerent, and here there are hints of a more orderly arrangement in the
outer kerb.
The contrasts between the exterior and interior are most obvious in the
west tomb at Knowth. It may have been directed towards the sun at the
autumn equinox, but in this case the passage changes direction by approxi-
mately twenty degrees. The light of the setting sun would never have reached
the chamber, which must have remained in darkness. The contrast between
these tombs is emphasized by the distributions of the carved motifs. In the
eastern tomb, which seems to be associated with the light of the rising sun,
they are found throughout the passage and the chamber. In the western tomb,
which may have been orientated on the sunset, there was a stone basin where
the passage changed direction, but many of the designs were in an area that
lacked illumination (Brennan 1983: 1028). Here they could only be found by
searching for them using lamps or torches.
I N TO TH E I N T E R I O R
The best way of summarizing the main themes of this chapter is by comparing
the experience of entering three diVerent kinds of tomb. Each is found in a
separate country.
The passage graves of northern Portugal had a relatively simple structure

(Jorge 1997). They lacked a monumental kerb, and a well-preserved entrance
passage led to a central chamber. Both were often embellished with paintings.
There was a clear structure to the decorated surfaces which were sometimes
conceived as a continuous frieze, with the most complex design facing the
entrance, where it would have received what little light percolated into the
monument. It was also the rear wall of the chamber where the decoration was
most likely to evoke the human form. Sometimes it was associated with
drawings of animals or the sun. The images on the side walls were often less
ornate and did not always extend far along the entrance passage. Some of
them would need careful lighting for their vivid colours to have much impact.
Anyone entering these buildings would have been aware that the paintings
became larger and more elaborate with distance from the outside world.
In many respects that was a diVerent experience from entering a passage
grave in the Boyne Valley (Eogan 1986). Here two separate groups of carvings
may have been addressed to two distinct audiences: large gatherings of people
who may have moved around the decorated kerb as individual images were
highlighted by the sun at diVerent times of day; and a smaller number who
could have entered the tomb itself. Inside the monument the decorated
surfaces were organized with less formality (Figure 23). Some were
Figure 23. Interior view of the entrance passage at Newgrange at the midwinter sunrise.
concealed, or had been partly defaced as one design was superimposed on

another. The carvings were completely non-Wgurative, and certain of them
perhaps referred to altered states of consciousness. Those inside Newgrange
were seen to best advantage when the chamber and passage were Xooded with
light at the midwinter sunrise. This dramatic eVect would have been lost on
anyone outside the monument.
Perhaps there was a similar distinction between those permitted inside the
main chambers of French allees couvertes and the people who could not
proceed beyond the entrance, but in this case the imagery was entirely
diVerent, and so was its distribution within the monument (Shee Twohig
1981: 7086). The most striking features were the naturalistic sculptures
associated with the antechamber, rather than the more enigmatic designs
found in the interior. The two groups of images were often separated by a
narrow entrance or even by a porthole through which it would be diYcult
for many individuals to pass. Moreover some of these chambers were buried
below a mound while others were underground. Again the images were
addressed to two diVerent audiences, who must have played quite separate
roles in the commemoration of the dead.
Of course there were even more variations on these simple principles, but
enough has been said to establish an important point. The relationship
between the paintings and carvings and the monuments where they occur
was by no means arbitrary. It is not a radical step to suggest that the same
applies to the relationship between megalithic art and the people who
encountered it in the past. This point is considered in greater detail in
Chapters 4 and 5.
4
The Lives of Statues
T H E M I N I AT U R E A N D T H E M O N UM E N TA L
It is curious that some of the smallest three-dimensional images in prehistoric

Europe should have been treated in the same ways as the largest ones. It is still
more striking that such practices occurred at opposite ends of the Continent
(Scarre 2007b). With only a few exceptions, small models of human bodies are
associated with Neolithic and Copper Age sites in Eastern Europe, while
monumental sculptures occur mainly in the west.
Their contexts are very diVerent, too. The Wnds from regions like the
Balkans come mainly from settlements, although they can be associated
with human remains. Those in Western Europe share the same distribution
as chambered tombs, and fragments of such statues were sometimes incorp-
orated in the fabric of these buildings. In this case there is little to associate the
sculptures with domestic sites. Rarely has any attention been paid to the
striking parallels between the treatment of such monumental images and
the ways in which small Wgurines were employed, yet there are advantages
in comparing these phenomena with one another, for an analysis of this kind
might shed light on why such similarities occur.
The ideal starting point is a study by the Rumanian archaeologist Dragos
Gheorgiu (2001) which considers the cult of ancestors in south-east Europe
during the Wfth millennium bc. He is concerned with the Cucuteni-Tripolye
culture, in which two distinctive phenomena have been identiWed, although
they also appear in the archaeology of neighbouring groups (Bailey 2005).
Human remains are frequently associated with settlements. They do not
represent entire bodies and only rarely do they occur in cemeteries. Among
the other Wnds from the living sites are numerous ceramic Wgurines, the great
majority of which have been deliberately broken. Only in the latest phase of
the Cucuteni-Tripolye group did the situation change, and in a few instances
entire skeletons are found together with complete Wgurines. The striking
similarity between the treatment of the dead and that of these small images
suggests that both processes were related to one another.
Gheorgius argument is strengthened by his analysis of the Wgurines asso-

ciated with domestic sites. Their appearance was quite distinctive, and so was
their treatment when their period of use came to an end. The bodies repre-
sented seem to be mostly those of women, although some examples certainly
had male attributes. They were shown swathed in what are best described as
bandages which extended from the neck down to the feet. They were tightly
bound around the legs in the way that would prevent a living person from
moving. He suggests that they represented the bindings on a corpse. Only the
head was left exposed, and it lacked facial features (Figure 24).
Very few of these Wgurines are found intact, and detailed analysis of those in
Eastern Europe suggests that not only were they broken in antiquity, diVerent
Figure 24. Ceramic Wgurine of the Cucuteni-Tripolye

Culture, showing the bindings on the body.
The Lives of Statues 79
fragments must have circulated within a wider community (Chapman and

Gaydarska 2007: chapter 4). Most important of all, in the Cucuteni-Tripolye
group the breaking of these images seems to have reXected the treatment
of the dead, whose bodies may have been subdivided in a similar fashion.
In particular, the decapitation of many of the clay Wgurines recalls the practice
of removing the skulls from human skeletons and depositing them separately
from the other parts of the body. Both the fragmentary artefacts and the
disarticulated bones were often buried in pits inside the settlement.
That cycle is certainly distinctive and was followed to varying extents by
other societies in this region of Europe. It focused on the places where people
lived. The process itself left little trace behind, although the superimposition
of successive buildings led to the formation of a mound (Bailey 2000).
Contrast this with the sequence in north-west France over the same period
of time. Here stone images were displayed in the open air (Boujot and Cassen
1998; Lecerf 1999). They were more akin to statues and could assume
monumental proportions. Some were arranged in formal settings or align-
ments, others were erected just outside burial mounds, and one example was
apparently situated beside a Neolithic house, although it is not clear whether
the two structures were contemporary with one another (Cassen, Audren,
Hinguant, Lannuzel, and Marchand 1998). Perhaps the standing stone marked
the dwelling of someone who had died.
In many ways they were very diVerent from the Eastern European Wgurines.
They are extremely schematic, so that it is a matter for debate how many
examples portray the human form. The best argument is that their proWle
narrows towards the top as if to indicate shoulders and a head. Moreover, the
earlier examples are not depicted with any kind of costume. Instead these
menhirs are usually embellished either with non-Wgurative decoration or with
drawings of artefacts or animals that would have been familiar in daily life.
Some of them resemble huge upright axe heads. Other designs may have had a
more speciWc interpretation, and two of the commonest motifs have been
identiWed as whales (Cassen and Vaquero Lastres 2003). Serge Cassen (1999
and 2000) has also argued that the earlier sculptures were speciWcally associ-
ated with masculinity and include phallic imagery. Again that recalls the
Eastern European evidence, for some of the clay Wgurines share this charac-
teristic and may even portray bodies that in contemporary terms would be
considered both male and female. Cassen also argues that at a later stage in the
Neolithic sequence in north-west France female images assumed a greater
signiWcance. This was when some of the older statues were demolished.
Other scholars have favoured a diVerent interpretation, although they are
still attracted by the idea that the levelling of the menhirs resulted from
iconoclasm (LHelgouach 1996). Similarly, their destruction and reuse as
building material has been interpreted in ideological terms (Whittle 2000).

The statues, with their occasional references to archery and the sea, are
thought to refer to the lives of local hunter gatherers who were acculturated
through their earliest contacts with farmers. The destruction of these sculp-
tures and their reuse in building tombs is associated with a new economy and,
most probably, with an immigrant population. Thus the conXict between
indigenous people and incomers is reXected by the history of these images.
Gheorgius work suggests another interpretation, for in his study the
breaking of the Wgurines was part of the funeral ritual and even took a similar
form to the treatment of the corpse. There was no sudden rupture, no
confrontation between opposing systems of belief. In fact the reuse of statues
in graves and mortuary monuments happens surprisingly often in the pre-
history of Western and Southern Europe: so often, in fact, that it cannot
always be interpreted in these terms (Bradley 2002: 3641). If it occurs at
the beginning of the Neolithic sequence in France, it also happens at the
same time in the Iberian Peninsula; and it is found in the Copper Age in
the foothills of the Alps and during the Early Bronze Age in Portugal and the
Caucasus. It may be more informative to consider a common explanation.
Some of the main elements are considered here; others will be discussed in
Chapter 5.
The Wrst point to make is that the Breton statues were not merely destroyed;
their remains were sometimes distributed between diVerent monuments
(Figure 25). The most famous instance is the presence of parts of the same
menhir at Gavrinis and Table des Marchand (Cassen 2000). Little is known
about the treatment of the dead in this region because bones rarely survive,
but what little information is available suggests that, in common with other
areas, Northern France saw the circulation of human remains. Either they
were arranged in formal patterns inside the monuments after the bodies had
lost their Xesh, or selected bones may have been treated like portable artefacts
and moved from place to place (Patton 1993: 918). That is not unlike the fate
of the broken menhirs. It is often supposed that by mixing human remains, or
even transporting them from one site to another, individual identities were
dissolved and the dead were treated as ancestors. Is it possible that some of the
statues were thought of in a similar way?
That involves making a series of assumptions. The Wrst of these is probably
justiWed. The statues do seem to be related to the commemoration of the
dead. There is evidence that standing stones and even alignments of menhirs
were erected in the vicinity of burial mounds. Some of these mounds had
closed chambers underneath them and could not be visited by the living after
the structure had been built. It was only when the sites were turned into
passage graves, or when passage graves were created in the vicinity, that the
Figure 25. The reuse of decorated menhirs in Breton chambered tombs. The diagram
illustrates the use of broken menhirs as capstones. The joining fragments from
Gavrinis and Table des Marchand originally formed parts of the same monument.
statues were taken down and incorporated in new monuments (Boujot and
Cassen 1998; Cassen 1999 and 2000). There is little evidence to suggest how
long that process lasted.
A second assumption is that these statues represented speciWc people. That
is not essential to the argument. It may be inappropriate to make a Wrm
distinction between memorials to particular individuals, and statues that
represented other powerful beings. That may be one reason why these images
were embellished with such a variety of abstract and Wgurative images and
even why a number of them may have been understood as more generalized
symbols of masculine sexuality.
A third assumption is that the choice of already-used stone was made for
social reasons and was not intended simply for economy of eVort. That is
surely shown by the fact that individual pieces had been moved over a signiW-
cant distance, and that fragments of the same menhir or stone alignment were
built into diVerent tombs. In any case it would surely have been easier to
quarry suitable stone from the friable granite bedrock (Mens 2008) than to
engage in the less dependable procedure of moving the statues and breaking
them into pieces of the appropriate size. So much eVort would have been
required that it seems unlikely that it was done for practical reasons.
The last assumption is that the transformation of the statues was carefully
structured. This has sometimes been denied, but the arguments for rejecting
the idea are unsatisfactory. It is true that the fragments, especially those with
carved decoration, were not laid out with much formality. Some would have
been diYcult to identify, and others may have been inaccessible. A number of
examples were employed as capstones. It could have been done deliberately, for
by this means statues that had originally been addressed to a substantial
audience were eVectively hiddenand hidden in locations where few people
would have had the opportunity to encounter them. When the carved stones
moved from the public to the private domain, they took on a more specialized
role. When they had stood outside the burial mounds they were distanced from
the dead; but in their new conWguration they enclosed them (Figure 26).
Figure 26. Decorated orthostats plus a capstone in the passage grave at Mane Lud,
Brittany.
Although this runs counter to Cassens argument that the destruction of so

many statues was the result of ideological change, there is much in favour of his
view that in northern France female images assumed a growing importance
over time. Even if his claims for an early phase of masculine imagery are
diYcult to evaluate, it is certainly true that sculptures of womenusually
represented by pairs of breastsare associated with some of the later cham-
bered tombs; other examples have been identiWed in the open air (Shee Twohig
1981: 7089 and 12830). One reason why this change is so apparent is that
these images are more naturalistic than the earlier ones. For that reason they
involve fewer problems of interpretation. As Chapter 3 has shown, they were
often located in the antechambers of megalithic monuments. There they could
be seen by many people. Indeed, it would have been necessary to pass them in
order to bury the dead.
That observation raises certain problems, for they are among the images
that have most often been identiWed as depictions of a Mother Goddess: a view
which has gone out of favour in mainstream archaeology. There is another way
of thinking about this sequence. Cassen interprets some of the earliest images
in terms of male sexuality, but they could also symbolize fertility. Similarly, the
female imagery might refer not only to reproduction but also to nourishing
the young. That is even more apparent where sunlight reached the burial
chamber at the turning points of the year, for it suggests a close relationship
between the fortunes of the dead and the passage of the seasons on which life
itself depends.
A useful perspective on this relationship is suggested by Maurice Bloch and
Jonathan Parry (1982) in their edited book Death and the Regeneration of Life.
This shows that the same interplay between funeral rites, fertility and sexu-
ality is found in many diVerent societies: societies which do not seem to have
any contacts with one another. Bloch and Parry suggest that this is because
those communities share a similar conception of the relationship between the
dead and the living. In such cases human fertility is regarded as a Wnite
resource, so that the death of one person releases the fertility required for
another to be born. In this scheme life is characterized as a limited good.
Fertility, however, is a wider concept:
We should make it clear that we do not use the term fertility in any restricted or
technical way, but in the dictionary sense of fecundity or productiveness. If death is
often associated with a renewal of fertility, that which is renewed may either be the
fecundity of people, or of animals and crops, or of all three. In most cases what would
seem to be revitalized in funerary practice is that resource which is culturally conceived
to be most essential to the reproduction of the social order. (emphasis in the
original; Bloch and Parry 1982: 7)
The qualiWcation is most important, for it suggests one reason why some of
the French menhirs which Cassen (2000) interprets as symbols of male
sexuality could be embellished with drawings of livestock or sea creatures,
or with depictions of artefacts like axes, bows and arrows that played a role in
the subsistence economy. All can be read as references to the same principle of
fecundity. The work of Bloch and Parry suggests why such images should be
associated with the dead.
T H E P E R M A N E N T A N D TH E P O RTA B L E
Similar problems arise in other parts of the distribution of megalithic art.

As Chapter 3 has shown, it is also a feature of the Iberian Peninsula, but here
the evidence is rather diVerent. While the decorated tombs were certainly
related to statues in the open air, there are other, equally important relation-
ships to consider.
It is misleading to treat the decorated tombs of Spain and Portugal as a
single category, as the style of the images varies from one region to another,
and so do the conventions according to which they were deployed, but at
present it is not clear how far these designs changed over time. Even so, there
are points of similarity with the French sites that ought to be considered.
It is certainly true that freestanding statues have been identiWed in Portugal
and Spain. Indeed, the small group in the Portuguese Alentejo resembles
Breton examples in its characteristic decoration, which sometimes features
designs that have been interpreted as crooks and snakes. Another possible
connection is that they can form distinctive settings that have been compared
with the megalithic enclosures of north-west France (Calado 2002 and 2006).
There the similarity ends, for Iberia provides rather less evidence for their
destruction, although some were reused in the fabric of chambered tombs.
The decorated stones inside the Iberian passage graves are generally regarded
as entire statues, however sketchy the carvings associated with them. Far from
being concealed within the fabric of the monument like those in Brittany, they
occupied the same positions from one site to another (Bueno Ramrez and
Balbn Behrmann 2003; Bueno Ramrez, Balbn Behrmann, and Barroso
Bermajo 2005a). Sometimes their distribution complemented that of painted
panels and deposits of stone artefacts (Figure 27)
In this case there is another element that calls for comment. A few of the
northern French monuments contain free-standing menhirs which are found
within the chambers of passage graves like Barnenez (Giot 1987), but this is
unusual. It seems to have happened rather more often in the Iberian tombs,
Figure 27. The organization of decorated elements in Iberian passage graves.
and this distinctive pattern raises a series of questions. These stones are of
various sizes, but could the largest examples have been manoeuvred into
position if the structure had already been built? If not, it seems more likely
that the passage and burial chamber were constructed around these upright
pillars and eVectively enclosed them. Might the menhirs have been the earliest
features at these sites? If so, the contrast with the French evidence becomes
even stronger, for in one case statues were levelled and their remains were
concealed in the structure of later tombs. In the Iberian Peninsula it is arguable
that those very monuments were meant to display the decorated stones. They
were often left intact when they were built into chambered tombs, and
occasionally the entire building may have been raised around them.
Again this could have happened as part of a longer cycle of activity.
Although the decorated tombs of the Iberian Peninsula are usually described
as passage graves, in many case the passage has to be identiWed by excavation.
That contrasts sharply with the structural evidence from northern France and
Ireland and is mainly true of the earlier tombs in the western part of the
Iberian Peninsula; in the later, more massive examples this feature is better
preserved. One possibility is that certain of the earlier monuments were less
carefully built than their successors, with the result that parts of them have
collapsed, but that hardly accounts for the survival of the chamber when
the remains of the passage have disappeared. Another is that the passage
was never intended to have a lengthy history, or that in some cases it was
demolished: an idea Wrst suggested by Chris Scarre (pers. comm.). It seems a
more satisfactory interpretation of the excavated evidence, but, if so, it sheds
new light on how these structures were employed. The collapse of the
entrance passagefor whatever reasonwould have meant that after an
interval of uncertain duration the dead were cut oV from the living and the
decoration in the central chambers was no longer accessible (Figure 28).
Where the demolition of anthropomorphic statues had been the decisive
event in the history of northern French sites, the demolition or closure of
Figure 28. Outline plan of the excavated tomb at Azutan, Spain showing the poor
survival of its entrance passage. The lower diagram illustrates the decorated ortho-
stats. The designs seem to be more complex towards the rear of the chamber.
these entrance passages was the Wnal stage in the use of Iberian monuments.
Again it may have marked the point at which the dead were separated from
the living.
THE LIT TLE PEOPLE
In the west of Iberia there is another feature to consider. This was one of the
few parts of Western Europe in which Wgurines played a signiWcant part in
mortuary ritual. In this case they take the form of a small stone artefact with a
groove towards the top to suggest a neck (Fabregas Valcarce and Vilaseco
Vazquez 2006; Bueno Ramrez and Balbn Behrmann 2006b). They are asso-
ciated with passage tombs and can be set upright in the entrances of these
monuments. They are inconspicuous and most examples are only a few
centimetres high (Figure 29). On the other hand, their characteristic proWle
has much in common with that of freestanding menhirs along the Atlantic
coastline of Europe. It also resembles the proWle of the anthropomorphic
sculptures identiWed inside the monuments of Portugal and Spain. Here the
composition of the intended audience might be particularly important. Were
these small objects oVerings made by people who were unable to enter the
chamber, or could the idols have been deposited to commemorate visits to the
dead? Had the artefacts Wrst circulated among the living, and were they
intended to recall speciWc people? If so, what accounts for the diVerence
between the monumental eYgies hidden inside the monuments and the
miniature idols displayed in front of them?
Figure 29. Stone idols from Galician megalithic tombs.

These artefacts are less well known than the decorated idols found further
to the south, which are often described as schist plaques (Figure 30). The
term is unsatisfactory, for many are made of slate and occasionally of sand-
stone. They are associated with the late use of megalithic tombs in this region.
Katina Lillios (2002 and 2003) has catalogued the accessible Wnds, of which
there are more than a thousand (http://research2.its.uiowa.edu/iberian/index.
php). According to her Wgures, only 1 per cent of the plaques are found in
settlements, and nearly all the others were certainly or probably deposited
with burials. 76 per cent come from megalithic tombs, although it is import-
ant to be aware that many of these monuments might have been reused after
their original construction; 8 per cent were found with burials in under-
ground chambers; and another 13 per cent came from the graves inside caves
or rock shelters. The stone plaques are relevant to this discussion not only
because they are found with the dead, but also because their characteristic
decoration has been compared with the paintings on the walls of chambered
tombs.
A few examples feature drawings of eyes. More commonly, the upper part
of the plaque bears a single hole, suggesting that they might have been
suspended from a cord and employed as ornaments. A number of writers
Figure 30. The design structure on a decorated schist plaque from southern
Portugal.
have observed that the characteristic designs resemble a woven fabric and
may portray a kind of costume. If so, they could have resembled the appear-
ance of the living. A striking feature noted by Lillios is that the lower parts
of these designs are arranged in a series of horizontal bands. That is very
important, for the painted designs inside a few of the tombs follow a similar
convention; if the plaques represented people wearing a distinctive costume,
the decorated orthostats must have done so too. That would suggest that
they were full-size images of particular individuals, and in some cases the
shapes of the uprights do resemble those of these artefacts. On the other hand,
at other tombs bands of decoration in the same style extend from the top to the
bottom of individual stones. They have rather less in common with the engraved
plaques, although the similarities between these media are still so striking that
some kind of cross reference was obviously intended. The designs on the plaques
had been created in one operation and had not developed incrementally; the
same may well be true of the decoration in the tombs.
Few of the plaques have been found in settlements, but it seems clear that it
was where they were made. Some may have been produced for a speciWc
funeral, and in these cases the perforation seems to have been freshly created.
There are other examples where the perforation is worn, suggesting that
they had been used for a signiWcant period of time before their deposition.
Moreover, 37 of the plaques in Lillioss cataloguea small but signiWcant
3 per cent of the totalshowed signs of more than one period of use. Perhaps
the plaques or their associated decoration had been modiWed before they
were buried. Again this suggests that some of these artefacts may have
circulated for an appreciable period of time before they accompanied the
dead to the tomb. During that interval they could have been displayed among
the living.
The last decorated plaques belong to the Bell Beaker phase and even share
certain decorative devices with that style of pottery. It means that they were
still being made and deposited during a period when metal became important
in the Iberian Peninsula. That chronological point is signiWcant for there may
have been a Wnal phase in the sequence of anthropomorphic images in this
region of Europe.
THE STONE ARMOURY
That interpretation has been suggested by Bueno Ramrez, Balbn Behrmann,

and Barroso Bermajo (2005b) who have drawn attention to a distinctive
series of stone carvings which depict human Wgures together with weapons,
normally daggers and halberds, although there are also drawings of bows.
They occur in several diVerent media, from free-standing menhirs to outline
drawings on rock outcrops, and are distributed across most parts of the
Iberian Peninsula, although they are never common (Figure 31). They
represent the kinds of metalwork that are found in the graves of the Copper
Age and the Early Bronze Age, and in Northern Spain it even seems possible
that the location of one such carving in the rock shelter at Pena Tu was related
to an important source of metal (De Blas Cortina 2003). These images are
later in date than the megalithic tombs in the same regions, but they do seem
to reXect a continuing desire to position images of powerful beings at
particular places in the landscape. It may be that they are the ultimate
successors of those in the passage graves: a suggestion which is especially
plausible as some of those monuments were reused at about the time when
the Wgures of warriors were made. If that is true, it suggests that long after the
images of the dead had been sealed inside stone-built tombs there was a new
phase of displaying stone sculptures in the open air. The audience for these
images remained the same for a long time. Only in the Early Bronze Age
of southern Portugal were any of the statues taken down and buried with
the dead (Chenorkian 1998: 3356). In other cases they remained where they
had been made.
On one level it may be right to say that the Wrst statues showing metal
weapons represented a developed stage in a long history of anthropomorphic
images in the Iberian Peninsula. On another level, this argument may be too
geographically speciWc. Just as Bell Beakers and copper metallurgy were
widespread features in the prehistory of Southern Europe, the same is true
Figure 31. Depictions of human Wgures with weapons from the Iberian Peninsula.
of what have become known as statue menhirs. Other important groups occur
in the south of France, northern Italy, and Switzerland (Chenorkian 1998;
Keates 2000).
How are they related to megalithic art? The normal view would be to see
them as something diVerent. It is usual to compare them with the carvings on
natural outcrops. The distinctive repertoire of weapons and jewellery depicted
on the statues is usually compared with the contents of prehistoric burials. On
the other hand, there are cases in which statue menhirs are directly related to
megalithic tombs in Italy and Switzerland. If the oldest decorated menhirs in
north-west France are associated with the Wrst chambered tombs, it is logical
to extend the category of decorated tomb to include some of the latest
examples. The well-preserved mortuary monuments at Sion in Switzerland
were built between 2700 bc and 2400 bc and are very similar to those at Aosta
in northern Italy. This account follows the recent reinterpretation of these
sites by Richard Harrison and Volker Heyd (2007).
The carvings associated with the last megalithic tombs in this region have
an unusually wide range of associations and often portray artefacts that are
found in graves. They are relevant because their presence in the landscape may
have set a precedent for new developments. During the third millennium bc
there were changes in the character of the rock carvings. Although they can be
traced through the types of artefacts that feature in the drawings, their
contexts were equally diverse. That has implications for their interpretation
and for the character of the audiences who encountered them.
The work of GeoVroy De Saulieu (2004) is of special importance. Rather
than treating the individual design elements as if they were portable artefacts,
he has studied their wider settings. Although chronological considerations
remain important, the main diVerences that he identiWes are based on con-
text. He makes an important distinction between art ostentatoire (or art
monumental), and what he calls art discret. The two series ran in parallel
throughout most of the archaeological sequence, although art discret might
have developed Wrst and was certainly important during the Copper Age,
between about 2900 and the middle of the third millennium bc. For part of
that period it ran in parallel with art ostentatoire, but the latter became the
dominant medium for visual images for the next two or three hundred years.
From 2200 bc, the start of the Early Bronze Age, art discret became import-
ant again and art ostentatoire disappeared.
De Saulieus analysis is particularly signiWcant since it considers image and
audience together. His scheme does take account of the contents of these two
traditions, but it is based primarily on where the images were made. Thus art
ostentatoire is associated with vertical surfaces and is prominently displayed.
Some of these designs are associated with monuments: decorated menhirs,
Figure 32. Statue menhirs in the southern Alps.
stone alignments, large cists, and chambered tombs (Figure 32). Others are
ostentatious because they were carved on conspicuous outcrops. In either case
they would have been easy to Wnd and were probably addressed to a sign-
iWcant number of people. Art discret, on the other hand, is not so easily
discovered, for it tends to occupy horizontal surfaces, often in mountainous
country, and is not associated with menhirs.
There are striking contrasts between both series of rock carvings: contrasts
which have important implications for the ways in which they were used. The
statue menhirs were sometimes destroyed, and in other cases examples of art
ostentatoire were adapted and re-carved, so that the images themselves were
changed. It seems as if these designs were revised according to political
circumstances. The panels that have been described as art discret developed
along very diVerent lines. Here fresh drawings might well be added to existing
panels, but what was already there was respected, and there is little sign of
superimposition or damage. In this case the elaboration of the decorated
surface would have traced the histories of the people responsible for its
creation.
De Saulieu identiWes important diVerences between the images in these
groups. Although they do share certain motifsin particular drawings of
weapons and what have been interpreted as sun symbolsthe designs on
vertical surfaces include elements that are not found in other contexts. The
human Wgures portrayed in these public carvingsboth men and women

are shown with elements of their costume and wear a variety of ornaments.
Daggers, halberds and axes also feature in this group, and in many instances
the weapons are attached to the body. Carvings of the human Wgure are
sometimes accompanied by depictions of the sun. Similarly, art ostentatoire
features wild animals and hunting. These animals are usually shown with
horns or antlers and are predominantly ibex and deer. The motifs that were
created in the other medium show domesticates instead. There are no draw-
ings of personal ornaments and, although there are numerous weapons, they
look more like accumulations of trophies. They can be separate from any
human Wgures.
It seems as if one group of images was grounded in domestic life, while
the other showed more concern with the activities of a small section of society.
They may have celebrated a restricted elite, and so the carvings were modiWed
as the social order changed. It may be no coincidence that these public
images assumed greater importance during the Bell Beaker phase, when
long distance networks became increasingly important in ancient Europe.
Individual burials also appear at this time. The weapons and ornaments that
feature on statue menhirs might be the equivalent of the oVerings placed in
the grave.
T H E I N S TA B IL I T Y O F I C ON S
The last megalithic tombs are particularly relevant here. Two sites have been
extensively excavated and it is not clear whether there had been many more.
The monuments consisted of massive stone cists located at the broad end of a
low triangular platform or cairn. The cists were probably covered over, but
may have been readily accessible. The best known examples are two neigh-
bouring monuments on the Petit Chasseur site at Sion, but a very similar
structure has been investigated as part of a monument complex at Aosta
(Figure 33; Mezzena 1998).
Each of these carvings was directly associated with statue menhirs of the
kind that De Saulieu describes as art monumental. The monument complex at
Aosta was unusually long lived. It consisted of an alignment of massive wooden
posts supplemented by a row of standing stones, with another line of menhirs
oVset from it at right angles. There was a triangular monument like that at
Sion. A few of the statues were altered while they remained in position, and
stylistic evidence suggests that the designs were created in two phases. They
feature the usual depictions of ornaments and weapons. They were associated
Figure 33. The excavated sequence at Sion, Switzerland, showing the changing
relationship between decorated menhirs, a megalithic tomb, and other monuments.
with small stone platforms, one of which covered a deposit of human bones.
Towards the end of the sequence those statues were felled and their heads were
damaged or removed. Some of the fallen menhirs lay on the ground but others
were taken away, although their bases were left in position. The broken pieces
were used to construct a series of monuments which included some small
platforms. In a Wnal phase the site saw the construction of a series of massive
cists, two of which abutted the older megalithic monument.
At Sion events took a similar turn. The megalithic tombs formed part of an
alignment of monuments that faced the sun on exactly the same axis as those
at Aosta. It also included a series of statues which showed so much variation

that Harrison and Heyd (2007) conclude that they probably represented
particular individuals who were buried on the site. They describe this row
of sculptures as a wall of ancestors and argue that they were arranged in line
to codify a genealogy.
The Wle of sculptures deWned a public space in front of the principal tombs.
Estimates vary of the numbers of people buried there, but both the monu-
ments at Sion may have housed the remains of nearly a hundred individuals.
On either side of the entrance to one of these monuments there had been a
statue menhir, so that, like the female images in French allees couvertes, these
sculptures Xanked the approach to the dead. Further statues were erected
throughout the lifespan of these tombs. While the earlier examples are dated
to the Late Neolithic period, the second group belongs to the Wrst part of the
Bell Beaker phase.
Around 2400 bc the site at Sion was transformed and, as happened at
Aosta, the statues were levelled and partly destroyed. The megalithic tombs
which had been the focal points of both these complexes were emptied and
their contents rearranged. Now they became the burial places of a smaller
number of people, and a sequence of monumental cists was constructed. They
incorporated the remains of the older stelae. This process extended for about
two hundred years, by which time collective burials had been replaced by
those of individuals.
The situation is quite diVerent from that discussed in the Wrst part of this
chapter. The statues at Sion were clearly anthropomorphic and might have
been erected as public statements concerning the authority of certain people.
Harrison and Heyd (2007) are probably right to identify them as ancestors.
It is obvious that the sculptures already had a signiWcant history of reworking
and alteration, but now it seems as if they lost their signiWcance altogether as
the original burials were removed from the chambered tombs and new ones
took their place. When that happened, some of the carved stones were levelled
and their remains were incorporated in monumental cists. In contrast to
Neolithic practice in Western Europe, the process was completely haphazard.
In this case the images were no longer treated with any respect.
THE PARADOX OF PYGMALION
In Classical legend the sculptor Pygmalion fell in love with his statue of
Galatea and asked the goddess Aphrodite to bring her to life. Alfred Gells
book Art and Agency addresses a similar problem (Gell 1998: chapter 7). Why
are idols treated like living beings, how are they animated, and how can they
inXuence human conduct?
These are important issues, but to a large extent Gells discussion depends
on ethnographic or historical sources and is not of much assistance in con-
sidering archaeological material. On the other hand, it provides a reminder, if
reminder is needed, that in many societies statues are not merely depictions of
people, they are living creatures. They are animated, not inert. Their well-being
must be protected, and their vitality has to be sustained. It is unfortunate that
these processes may not be reXected in the archaeological record. It is necessary
to approach the question obliquely.
Gells discussion is about the nature of idols, and his main concern is with
the agency which they share with other works of art. Although his argument is
among the most abstract in his book, it makes one point that might be
particularly helpful in an archaeological analysis. He tells the reader that
not all idols are Wgurative. There are many that do not resemble any living
form, and yet they have similar properties and exercise similar powers. That is
surely signiWcant for an account which features menhirs which have under-
gone minimal modiWcation. In such cases any resemblance to the human
form might be entirely fortuitous. Gells argument raises the possibility that
unmodiWed stones might have possessed the same properties.
In the light of that observation any component of a stone-built tomb could
have been treated as a living being. In principle so could any menhir. The
point is especially signiWcant in areas that are without megalithic art. Here
there is another possibility to consider. Were certain rocks endowed with
special powers because of their shapes, colours, textures or mineral inclu-
sions? This certainly seems to have been the case in Northern Europe where
the orthostats employed in the construction of megalithic tombs appear to
have been put on display (Scarre 2004a, b). Their shapes were certainly
distinctive, and their individuality was enhanced because the uprights were
separated from one another by panels of walling. At times the eVect was
enhanced by the use of coloured stone. Something similar may have happened
on the west coast of Sweden where the raw material for building chambered
tombs was immediately to hand, but in this case the shapes of the rocks seem
to have been less important than their colouring and the mineral veins
exposed in the surface of the stone. They included natural arcs, zigzags, and
even spirals that are not unlike the designs created by painting and carving in
other parts of Europe (Bradley and Phillips 2008). It would be wrong to make
too much of this distinction, as similar considerations seem to have
inXuenced the selection and deployment of raw materials even in areas that
are well known for their decorated passage graves. That is particularly true
of sites in north-west France where similar patterns extend not only to
chambered tombs, but also to alignments of menhirs (Scarre 2004a, b). For
that reason the prehistorians conception of a megalithic art is perhaps too
narrow. It might be more productive to consider the treatment of diVerent
kinds of rocks on the same terms, so that orthostats which were chosen for
their appearance are studied in exactly the same ways as those few that were
painted or carved.
There is another lesson to be drawn from Gells analysis. It may not be
possible to discover the processes by which idols were animated in prehistoric
times, but his account illustrates the close relationship between such images
and the audiences who encountered them. Statues had to be looked after like
human beings. It was an active process, for they were not created simply as
subjects for contemplation. Gell talks about the ways in which images are
visited, embellished, and even fed. Were their prehistoric counterparts the
focus for oVerings, like the artefacts placed in a grave?
It is also necessary to investigate the biographies of these stones. Here
archaeology comes into its own. It may be without the kinds of evidence on
which Gells account is based, but it can pursue other objectives. Perhaps it
should be studying the relationships between the statues themselves. They are
sometimes found in groups, often in circular settings or alignments. Were
they erected simultaneously, or was this a cumulative process. As new ex-
amples were raised, were others taken down? There is some evidence from the
southern Alps to suggest that both these processes were important, and
several of the statues at Aosta were set in the same foundation trench
(Mezzena 1998). Were certain images created in relation to others because
they represented the links between diVerent people, in the past or even in the
present? Could the Wles of statues have recorded a genealogy? That has been
suggested at Sion. Were older images replaced or even obliterated as the
descent line changed, or did this happen when the dead were transformed
into ancestors in the way that has been suggested for north-west France?
These are diYcult questions, but they cannot be approached in the Wrst place
unless such issues are investigated in the Weld (Lyon Crawford 2007). The
chronological and spatial relationships between the carvings are just as
important as those between the burials in a cemetery, and in future they
deserve to be studied in the same amount of detail.
The title of this chapter refers to the lives of statues. It is certainly
important to consider who would have seen these images and how they
might have reacted to them, but it is no less revealing to investigate how the
histories of the sculptures changed and the unexpected ways in which they
were treated over time. It is a challenge that archaeologists are well equipped
to meet.
5
In Open Country
MEGALITHIC ART A ND THE WIDER WO RLD
The conventional term megalithic art raises many problems. Some have been
addressed in Chapters 3 and 4, and more of them will be considered here.
These diYculties arise for three main reasons. Despite the claims of early
scholars, it lacks a single style of imagery and is deWned almost entirely by the
contexts in which it is found. At the same time, the decorated panels can be
entirely abstract and might have made quite diVerent references from natur-
alistic designs. Even in areas where the same motifs were shared between
separate tombs, they could be organized in very diVerent ways. It is not a
promising starting point for research.
Further problems have arisen since this tradition was Wrst deWned. The
decorated tombs are architecturally and chronologically diverse, and it seems
possible that the selection of raw materials for building them was especially
important. Indeed, it is hard to make a categorical distinction between those
monuments which created a striking impression through the colours, shapes
and surface appearance of the building stones and those in which an equally
striking visual eVect was achieved by paintings and carvings.
Another reason for questioning the existence of a discrete category of
megalithic art is the way in which its repertoire overlaps with images found
in the open air. This provided the subject matter of Chapter 4, which studied
the complicated relationship between statues and designs within the tombs.
If complete or fragmentary menhirs were incorporated in these structures, are
they to be described as megalithic art? How far can the category extend
before it loses any meaning?
This chapter examines the wider relations of tomb decoration at an even
larger scale. It considers the relationship between the motifs associated with
megaliths and the decoration on portable artefacts. It comments on the
possible links between the designs inside passage graves and those in domestic
buildings, and it studies the connections between the images associated with
monuments and those in natural places like cliVs, caves, outcrops, and rock
In Open Country 99
shelters. How were these sites used, and who were the audiences for the
paintings and carvings that were made there?
IMAGES, ARTEFACTS, AND HOUSES
One of the most obvious connections between tomb decoration and the
design of portable artefacts is illustrated by the engraved plaques discussed
in Chapter 4. Although their appearance is extremely distinctive, they can be
compared with other objects dating from the Copper Age (Lillios 2002). Their
characteristic decoration extends to a series of decorated crooks which share
similar associations, while a few of the plaques have eyes which recall the
occuli found in southern Spain (Garca Atenzar 2006).
Occuli show other links (Garca Atenzar 2006). They take a variety of
diVerent forms and are present in chambered tombs and walled settlements,
but do not appear in megalithic art. Instead they feature in the paintings
found in caves and rock shelters, some of which are located outside the
distribution of funerary monuments. The same motif also occurs together
with drawings of deer and the sun on the pottery known as symbolkeramik
(Figure 34; Martn and Camalich 1982; Domingo, Roldan, Ferrero, and
Garca 2007) and also on the clay plaques from the Copper Age fortiWed
site of Vila Nova de Sao Pedro, in Portugal (Figure 35; Paco 1940). The cross
references between these diVerent media have rarely been discussed, but they
would have been important to the people allowed inside the tombs. Were they
Figure 34. Symbolkeramik from southern Spain, featuring animals and other
designs shared with Iberian Schematic Art.
Figure 35. Decorated plaques from the fortiWed settlement of Vila Nova de Sao
Pedro, Portugal featuring similar designs to Iberian Schematic Art.
associated with particular individuals, or with particular activities? Did their

presence at enclosed sites lend them a special status? What made them such
appropriate oVerings for the dead?
Like its Iberian counterpart, Breton megalithic art recalls pottery decoration.
Some of the most striking images associated with the tombsand with the
freestanding sculptures whose remains were built into these structureswere
the crook, already described, and a pair of animal horns described by the term
bucrania. Both were depicted on ceramic vessels, and horns were also represented
by stone artefacts (Cassen and LHelgouach 1992; Le Roux 1992). Both designs
have a wide distribution, in the tombs and beyond. In this case they transgress
three diVerent media: portable sculptures, tomb decoration, and ceramics.
A similar set of connections is evident in Orkney where some of the earlier
tombs were Xanked by drystone walling constructed in a distinctive herring-
bone pattern. The same design is found on the decorated pottery (Unstan
bowls) associated with these sites (Davidson and Henshall 1989: 301). In the
following period when passage graves were built, local ceramics changed and a
new tradition was adopted. The earlier vessels in this style (Grooved Ware)
were decorated with incised motifs very like those inside the local tombs
(Bradley, Phillips, Richards, and Webb 2001). They also occur on a series of
stone plaques and other artefacts which have been found at a small number
of sites across Britain (Figure 36). The later ceramics in Orkney include
In Open Country 101
Figure 36. Linear designs associated with Neolithic houses, artefacts, and tombs
in Orkney.
more plastic decoration, and again this is reXected by the designs in passage
graves. There are striking links between these diVerent media. The most
characteristic motif among the later monuments in Orkney is usually de-
scribed as a horned spiral. It has also been identiWed on portable artefacts,
ceramics and open-air rock carvings (Bradley 1997a: Wg. 7.3). Other vessels in
this style feature a distinctive rosette which they share with Irish passage
graves. As happens in the monuments of north-west France, there is a sig-
niWcant overlap between decorated pottery and megalithic art.
Even where formal decoration is not found in megalithic tombs, it may be
present in other media. The passage graves of Denmark and Sweden illustrate this
point. They lack any paintings, and the only carved decoration consists of cup
marks on the exposed upper surface of the capstone. Kaul (1997) has identiWed a
number of small stone plaques which carry incised decoration executed in
a similar style to Western European megaliths, but most of them are associated
with other kinds of monuments. Numerous decorated vessels were deposited
outside Scandinavian passage graves. They probably accumulated during feasts to
commemorate the dead, but in this case ceramics seem to have provided a focus
for visual elaboration rather than the architecture itself. The Wnest vessels of
the Funnel Beaker Culture may have been the megalithic art of Northern
Europe.
The same style of pottery is associated with settlements. This is not the only
link between the visual images associated with death and those connected
with the living. Laporte and Tinevez (2004) have reconsidered the traditional
argument that megalithic tombs were designed as houses of the dead.
Not only were they the places where human bodies came to rest, their
architecture was based on the forms of domestic buildings. This is a familiar

argument in the case of long barrows and long mounds, but these authors
break new ground in drawing attention to a series of circular dwellings along
the Atlantic coastline which may have provided a source of inspiration for
passage graves. Does the evidence of megalithic art add anything to this
equation?
Again there is some evidence from Neolithic Orkney, where a series of
domestic buildings has been excavated. They feature in the article by Laporte
and Thivenez. Following earlier writers, they argue that the earlier megaliths,
which have elongated chambers subdivided by slabs, resemble the plans of
the dwellings of the same period. The idea seems convincing, but neither
group of buildings has any decoration. They also claim that the later tombs of
Maeshowe type show the same organization of space as the Neolithic struc-
tures at Skara Brae and other sites. The link with tomb architecture is
strengthened by a recent discovery. Ever since the work of Gordon Childe at
Skara Brae it has been recognized that the houses on the site, and some of the
passages communicating between them, were decorated with linear motifs
(Figure 36). Other examples have been identiWed at the settlements of Pool,
Barnhouse, and Ness of Brodgar (Shee Twohig 1997; Shepherd 2000; Nick
Card pers. comm.). Not long ago a survey of the later passage graves of
Orkney identiWed strikingly similar designs in all the accessible and well
preserved monuments. The same motifs were used to embellish both the
houses and the tombs. The connection is even more compelling as these
designs mark important thresholds in the architecture of both kinds of
building (Bradley, Phillips, Richards, and Webb 2001).
TO M B A RT A N D O P E N - A I R RO C K A RT
It is sometimes suggested that the decoration associated with megalithic tombs

belongs to wider traditions of rock art which are also represented in the open
air. It is an argument that has received some support in Portugal and Spain
(Bueno Ramrez and Behrmann Balbn 2006c), and one which has also been
advanced to explain the distinctive imagery found in Britain and Ireland
(Bradley 1997). Before discussing those possible connections in detail, it is
necessary to consider the distributions of these diVerent styles.
The Wrst point to make is that megalithic art does not coexist with open-air
rock art in every region. On a local level their distributions may not coincide,
as is probably the case in Orkney. There are larger areas over which the images
found in the decorated tombs lack any counterparts in the wider landscape.
In Open Country 103
In north-west France, for example, cup marks are the commonest motifs on
natural outcrops, but they are rare inside the chambered tombs (Le Quellec
2006). There is little to show whether these two traditions of stone carving
had much in common, or even whether they were contemporary with one
another. If the distribution of megalithic art overlaps with that of rock art in
Britain, Ireland, Portugal, and Spain, the French evidence shows that such a
connection is by no means universal.
Secondly, there are regions of Europe in which megalithic tombsand,
in particular, passage graveswere apparently undecorated. That certainly
applies to Southern Scandinavia where the only carved motifs were the cup
marks on the capstone. This is interesting, as there is little evidence for a
tradition of open-air petroglyphs during the period in which these structures
were built. Attempts to recognize motifs shared with Irish passage tombs have
not attracted much support, as the Northern European images seem to date
from the Bronze Age (Soggnes 1995). In a widely quoted article by Eva and Per
Fett (1979) those few designs have been taken out of context and form parts of
larger panels.
A third kind of relationship is more revealing. There is little doubt that
some of the images associated with Iberian passage tombs resemble those
painted and carved in the wider landscape. It even seems possible that the
oldest pre-dated the building of the monuments. Such evidence must be
treated with caution, for in some cases the chronological evidence is meagre.
Even so, it is clear that in the south of Spain images were being painted in
caves and rock shelters from the very beginning of the Neolithic period. That
is because they also feature in the decoration on the earliest pottery. Radio-
carbon dates suggest that the widely distributed tradition of Iberian Schematic
Art was represented on ceramics up to 500 years before it Wrst appeared in
tombs (Martnez Garca 2006). Moreover, it continued to be made in natural
places for some time after the building of passage graves had lapsed. Again
ceramic chronology provides a vital clue, for a few of the most characteristic
elements in this tradition were used to decorate Bell Beakers (Delibes de
Castro and Guerra Doce 2004).
Iberian Schematic Art is widely distributed, and, like its counterpart inside
the tombs, it could be executed as paintings or carvings, and sometimes in
both media. Like megalithic art, the survival of pigment is inXuenced by the
local climate so that painted images seem to be more common in the south
of the Iberian Peninsula and carvings in the north (Martnez Garca 2006;
Gomez Barrera 2006). On the other hand, its distribution is much wider than
that of decorated tombs. It is more abundant then megalithic art along the
north coast of Spain and is a particular feature of those parts of the south-east
in which chambered tombs were never built. In fact its distribution extends to
caves and rock shelters on the Mediterranean coast of France (Hameau 2003).
Despite the presence of similar motifs at passage graves and in the wider
landscape, their distributions were not the same.
That is equally apparent from the archaeology of north-west Iberia where a
distinctive series of petroglyphs comprise the Galician style of rock carvings
(Pena Santos and Rey Garca 1999; Santos Estevez 2005). It is not well
dated, but its currency seems to have overlapped with the history of Sche-
matic Art, and probably with the later use of megalithic tombs. This style is
distributed across an area in which Schematic Art is virtually absent and has
little in common with the designs inside the passage graves. While the
megalithic art in this region can be compared with the decoration of tombs
in northern Portugal, its only link with other media is with a few cist slabs
which may be later in date (Alves in press). Like the statue menhirs discussed
in Chapter 4, they were probably contemporary with the earliest metalwork
in the region.
It seems as though there are only two parts of Europe in which it is possible
to compare the repertoire of megalithic art with the paintings or carvings
created in the wider landscape. Towards the northern limit of its distribution
there are potential connections between the passage grave art of Britain and
Ireland and the rock carvings that have been studied during recent years.
To the south, there may be similar links between some of the key elements in
Iberian megalithic art and the repertoire of Schematic Art. No such studies
are possible in northern or western France where open-air petroglyphs are
rare and poorly dated, while in Galicia and parts of northern Portugal there is
little overlap between the decoration found in passage graves and the carved
rocks of the same region. At present it is not clear whether this is has
chronological implications, but the fact that Galician rock art and Schematic
Art have complementary distributions suggests that their histories overlapped
(Alves in press).
On one level these relationships undermine any notion of a distinct style
or stylesof megalithic art. In certain cases it is obvious that the images on
tomb walls coexisted with menhirs depicting the human form. Other designs
were closely related to those in diVerent locations, but that says very little
about the contexts in which they were used. Here some important clues come
from comparing the designs found inside the monuments with those distrib-
uted across the wider landscape. The following discussion begins with Iberian
Schematic Art, which is partly Wgurative, before turning to the abstract rock
art of Ireland and Britain.
In Open Country 105
O P E N - A I R A RT A N D M E G A L I T H I C A RT:
THE IBERIAN PENINSULA
Schematic Art is diYcult to characterize (Hernandez Perez 2006; Martnez

Garca 2006). That is hardly surprising since it had such an extensive distri-
bution across space and time. It seems most unlikely that its repertoire
remained stable between the Early Neolithic period and the Copper Age,
but at present there are few Wxed points on which to base any detailed analysis.
It is ironic that the best way of studying its evolution may be though
comparison with the designs in megalithic tombs. They can also be compared
with decorated pottery (Figure 37).
Its repertoire is varied, although the research of Pilar Acosta (1968) shows
that some design elements were more widely distributed than others. As the
name suggests, the motifs are rather stylized, but among the commoner
elements are human beings (often men), animals (frequently deer), hand-
prints, occuli, and drawings of the sun. They are accompanied by a variety of
non-Wgurative designs (Figure 37). The motifs were of several sizes; some-
times they are conspicuous, but more often they are diYcult to Wnd. Their
distribution is correspondingly varied. The painted and carved sites can occur
in groups, but some seem to be genuinely isolated. They are found in
many diVerent settings. The decorated surfaces were on river banks, outcrops,
cliVs or ledges and were frequently located inside caves and rock shelters
(Figure 38). Sometimes the stone was selected because of its colour, or even
because it contained distinctive mineral inclusions (Diaz-Andreu 2002; Alves
2002). Many of the sites overlooked large tracts of lower ground, but not all
the paintings and carvings were readily accessible (Figure 39). This is rarely
discussed in published accounts which tend to place more emphasis on the
designs than the local topography. That is particularly true of Henri Breuils
studies of Schematic Art (Breuil 19335). Nevertheless it is revealing that so
many of his photographs contain a ladder.
Only a small proportion of these sites preserve archaeological deposits, and
those that have been excavated are very varied. They often include Wnds of
pottery and stone tools, although the later examples can also contain metal-
work and human remains. Only in rare instances were their contents much
diVerent from the open settlements of the same period. A few decorated caves,
like Buraco de Pala in northern Portugal (Sanches 1997) or El Pedroso across
the border in Spain (Bradley, Fabregas Valcarce, Alves, and Vilaseco Vazquez
2005), were extremely proliWc, but others contain few, if any artefacts.
Figure 37. The repertoire of Iberian Schematic art. (a and b): apparently non-
Wgurative motifs; (c): vehicles and weapons; (d and e): human Wgures, some with
weapons or tools; handprints, occuli, and deer.
For that reason it may be easier to characterize these sites by considering

the relationship between their locations and the images that were created there.
One of the most informative studies is Sara Fairens account of decorated sites
in Valencia. During the Neolithic period there were three styles of rock art in
this areaLevantine Art, Macroschematic Art, and Schematic Artbut it is
clear that they were used concurrently. Images in these diVerent traditions
In Open Country 107
Figure 38. The decorated cave of Pala Pinta, Portugal, with a detail of a
painted panel.
Figure 39. The location of the decorated cave with Schematic Art at Morro Carrascal,
Spain.
were frequently superimposed, but the order in which they were made varied
from one site to another. Fairen has classiWed the shelters in which the
paintings are found and has considered both their size and their accessibility.
Her analysis was based on a Geographic Information System. It demonstrated
that while all these styles were associated with similar kinds of places, Sche-
matic Art occurs in the most diverse locations (Fairen Jimenez 2006). Its
distribution extends to sites that were particularly small and inaccessible.
Schematic Art was the longest lived of the three traditions and the only one
to be associated with human burials. Unlike the other styles, it was related to
the images inside megalithic tombs.
Research in north-west Spain came to a similar conclusion (Bradley and
Fabregas Valcarce 1998). Again it was based on comparisons between diVerent
styles of rock art, but in this case their distributions hardly overlapped. Again
one was Schematic Art, while the other tradition was Galician rock art.
Ramon Fabregas and the writer visited a number of sites with paintings and
carvings extending along a transect leading between the areas in which each of
these two groups is found. The project took in sites on either side of the
modern frontier between Portugal and Spain.
The comparison was revealing. Galician petroglyphs were generally located
on inconspicuous outcrops within the main part of the settled landscape.
In Open Country 109
They were often beside paths or close to natural basins which retain some
moisture at the height of summer. The images were generally created on Xat
or gently sloping surfaces. There were more prominent rocks nearby which
could have been carved instead, but that rarely happened. It was only towards
the outer edge of the distribution of these designs that such conventions were
relaxed, and here more use was made of larger outcrops. The images might be
carved on steeper surfaces, and some of the designs incorporated elements
shared with Schematic Art.
Within the distribution of Schematic Art the situation changed again. The
decorated rocks were in more conspicuous positions and were further from
the optimum areas for human settlement, although most of them com-
manded extensive views. The main rock paintings were in caves and rock
shelters, or on narrow ledges in mountainous country. Sometimes they may
have overlooked paths, but they were not always located beside them, and it
would have required a special journey to visit these places. It would have been
easier to have selected more accessible surfaces for painting and carving. Some
of the main panels were in places which were diYcult to Wnd, and at times it
was not obvious how to reach them. Moreover, the space in front of the
images could not have accommodated many people, nor could large groups
have travelled there. It seemed as if access to some of the decorated rocks
might have been restricted.
In fact the sites studied in the course of this project showed considerable
diversity. Some of the more accessible panels were actually among the simpler
ones, while there was more ornate decoration and a greater variety of images
in locations which could not have contained large numbers of people. Even
the range of pigments was greater there, suggesting that the contents of the
paintings changed according to their positions in the landscape.
Another important study took place on the Spanish Portuguese border in
the valley of the River Tagus (Bueno Ramirez, Balbn Behrmann, and Barroso
Bermajo 2004; Bueno Ramrez, Barroso Bermajo, Balbn Behrmann, and
Carrera Ramrez 2006). This considered all the surviving components of the
earlier prehistoric landscape, but for present purposes its most signiWcant
elements were rock carvings, paintings, and decorated tombs. Freestanding
menhirs were also recorded in the survey.
The tombs were situated on the Xanks of the valley in similar positions to
the settlements. The locations of occupation sites were also indicated by a
series of cup-marked rocks. On the highest ground there were painted rock
shelters and caves which featured a considerable number of human Wgures.
By contrast, the main series of carvings was beside the river where the motifs
were generally on red stone. They contained a mixture of naturalistic and
abstract images, the most prominent of which were on vertical surfaces and
featured human Wgures. The petroglyphs also included hunting scenes and
drawings of the sun. The decorated panels were usually near to places where it
would be possible to cross the water.
Thus it is clear that there were important variations within Schematic Art.
It is equally apparent from a new study of rock paintings in Aragon conducted
by Philippe Hameau and Albert Painaud (2006), who have examined a series
of caves and shelters. All these sites faced south and again they commanded
extensive views, but the painted surfaces seem to have been selected because
of the unusual colour of the bedrock. The majority were distributed in a
compact group at the conXuence of two rivers, but the local topography
meant that it would have been necessary to pass certain of these places in
order to reach the others. The more accessible shelters were also the larger
ones but were not intensely decorated. Despite their size, they contained few
painted motifs. The more distant sites, on the other hand, were less extensive
and yet they had been embellished on a lavish scale. The paintings were more
elaborate and more varied, yet less space was available there, and fewer people
would have been able to see them. The conclusions reached by Hameau and
Painaud reXect those of Fairens study. They are also consistent with the
results of Weldwork carried out on the border of Portugal and Spain.
How should these observations be interpreted, and what light can they shed
on the roles of megalithic art? It is obvious that the paintings and carvings
that comprise Schematic Art were not accessible to everyone. Although some
examples were beside major rivers, others were distanced from the settled
area, even though a few of the images were shared with artefacts that circu-
lated in the domestic sphere. The decorated surfaces were unlikely to be
encountered by chance. Few were readily accessible and some eVort would
have been required in order to view them. At times that may have involved a
special journey out of the familiar lowlands into more mountainous country,
where the colours and textures of the decorated rocks were perhaps as
important as their settings in the landscape. The topography of some of the
sites also shows that the audiences for these images were rather small. It would
be impossible for any number of people to have visited them at the same time.
Some of the caves and shelters could not accommodate large gatherings and
had to be approached along narrow paths. In both social and practical terms
they were dangerous locations. It is not clear whether the same applies to
the rock carvings beside major rivers like the Tagus or the Guadiana, and the
question needs further research. It may be that petroglyphs had a diVerent
signiWcance from rock paintings. Alternatively, such rivers may have marked
important boundaries.
It seems as if there was a continuum among the sites associated with
Schematic Art. Not all of them were so diYcult to Wnd, but there are cases
In Open Country 111
in which it was the smaller or more remote examples that carried the greatest
signiWcance. They could contain fewer people than the others, and yet they
might be embellished with the most complex images. If those images were
intended as a source of information, the most powerful messages must have
been directed to the more restricted audiences. Indeed, they were occasionally
reserved for those who had made the greatest eVort to receive them. It is not
clear how most of these places were used, but there are certain clues. A site like
El Pedroso seems to have witnessed the preparation and consumption of food
(Bradley, Fabregas Valcarce, Alves, and Vilaseco Vazquez 2005) A few caves in
earlier prehistoric Iberia have produced the remains of hallucinogenic plants
(Guerra Doce 2002 and 2003), and many more are associated with burials.
Their use as cemeteries postdates the general currency of megalithic tombs
(Soler Daz 2002).
Further clues are provided by the subject matter of the paintings and
carvings. The Wgurative elements seem to emphasize the importance of men
and, in particular, their role as hunters. Weapons are shown occasionally, and,
in common with Galician rock art, the images place a special emphasis on
stags. It is true that the sites are ideally located for watching the movement of
game, but they are often too isolated to have been used as hunting stands. The
sun also features in many of the scenes, and that may explain why the images
studied by Hameau and Painaud (2006) face towards the south. It meant that
they might be illuminated during the course of the day, but it also ensured that
these places were not as cold and damp as might otherwise have been the case.
The abstract elements are still more diYcult to interpret, but certain of
them share features in common with the entoptic imagery discussed by
Lewis-Williams and Dowson (1988). In fact both groups of motifs often
shade into one another, so that there is no clear-cut distinction between the
naturalistic and abstract elements in these panels. That is important, for not
all these designs would have been comprehensible to strangers. Their signiW-
cance would need to be explained, and that information could be oVered or
withheld. The decorated surfaces may have played a part in many diVerent
transactions, including initiation ceremonies or other rites of passage.
The obvious emphasis on masculinity suggests a comparison with the vision
quest undergone by young men before they became full members of society
(Whitley, Dorn, Simon, Rechtman, and Whitley 1999).
One way of thinking about this evidence is to suppose that admission to
the sites was not readily available. It may have been restricted not only by
the siting of the images but also by their subject matter. To see them might
involve an arduous journey, and it is clear that in two diVerent senses the most
complex images were often inaccessible. They could be created in places that
were diYcult to Wnd, and they seem to have been directed to the smallest
audiences.
These observations can shed some light on the character of the decorated
tombs in the Iberian Peninsula. It used to be supposed that passage graves
were conceived as artiWcial caves, but there are problems with this argument.
Cave burials are commonly found outside the distribution of these monu-
ments, and the majority are later in date (Soler Daz 2002). While the passage
graves were embellished in a style that recalls the treatment of natural places,
it is not clear whether both kinds of sites were used in mortuary ritual. The
presence of similar artefacts in each of these contexts cannot shed light on the
question as they are also known from settlements.
Where the comparison is much more helpful is in considering the audience
for the images. Like so many of the places featuring Schematic rock art, the
interiors of chambered tombs were remote and inaccessible. They could also
be cold and dark, and could never have admitted many people. The links
between the images displayed in these diVerent contexts suggest that their
roles were similar to one another; the major diVerence is that those who built
the tombs were more concerned with the dead and the past, while a plausible
interpretation of some of the decorated caves and rock shelters is that they
were directed towards the living and the future roles of particular individuals.
It seems likely that they were created and inspected by a restricted section
of society. The emphasis on male Wgures, male animals, and hunting scenes
might suggest that they were used for initiation. What Spanish archaeologists
call tumbas de corredor are known in English as passage graves. That term is
unconsciously revealing, for it seems as if both styles of art played a role in
the rites of passage. Perhaps one group of sites recorded the entry of certain
individuals into the wider community, while the other signiWed their demise
and the beginning of a new role as ancestors.
OPEN-AIR ART AND MEGALITHIC ART:

I R E L A N D A N D B R I TA I N
This is the other region of Europe in which it is possible to compare the

decoration of megalithic tombs with images in the natural landscape. In this
case there are no paintings, although it does seem possible that the incised
motifs on the walls of Orkney passage graves once deWned areas of pigment
(Bradley, Phillips, Richards, and Webb 2001). With that exception, all the images
were carved. As mentioned earlier, they were also abstract (Figure 40).
In Open Country 113
Figure 40. Carved decoration on Ben Lawers, Scotland.
Most of the megalithic art discussed in this section is found in a limited

number of Irish tombs, although there are a few additional examples in
Britain. Open-air rock art, on the other hand, is much more widely distrib-
uted and is mainly a feature of Ireland, Scotland, and northern England
(Bradley 1997a: chapter 5; Beckensall 1999 and 2006). It is by no means
clear whether these groups of images should be regarded as two separate
styles. Although they share a few comparatively rare motifs (Johnston 1993),
it is hard to understand why this small region of Europe should have seen the
independent development of two traditions of stone carving, both of which
are non-Wgurative and both of which employ curvilinear designs. Moreover,
their chronologies may be poorly understood, but most authorities are
satisWed that they overlap. Much has been written about which tradition
developed Wrst and exactly when that happened. At the moment it remains
unknown(Bradley 1997a: chapter 4; Waddington 2007).
The problem is a simple one. The decoration inside passage tombs can be
dated by its association with these buildings and with the artefacts found there.
The evidence suggests that Irish megalithic art developed in the mid to late
fourth millennium bc and continued in use until the early third millennium.
At present the only direct dating evidence from Britain comes from Orkney, but
it is consistent with that scheme. Open-air rock art, on the other hand, was
certainly long lived. Fragments of carved stone are known in association with
Early Bronze Age burials, but most of them seem to be reused and may have been
quarried from already-decorated outcrops: a practice for which there is good
Weld evidence. On the other hand, the fact that certain motifs rather than others
were selected for this purpose suggests that they retained their signiWcance over a
considerable period of time. It is still more striking that the images that were
employed in secondary contexts were often those with aYnities in megalithic art
(Bradley 1997a: chapter 9).
The origin of open-air rock art is harder to determine, and here there
have been diVerences of opinion. Most writers now agree that it developed
during the Neolithic period, rather than the Bronze Age as had once been
supposed, but a precise date is diYcult to deWne (Waddington 2007). The
links between rock carvings and pottery decoration would suggest a date
around 3000 BC, while its overlap with Irish megalithic art might favour an
earlier beginning. So would its occasional associations with diagnostic arte-
facts and monuments, although none is entirely satisfactory. For the purposes
of this account it is enough to suggest that both groups of carvings ran in
parallel, although open-air rock art clearly continued to be made over a longer
period.
Unlike the Schematic Art of the Iberian Peninsula, British and Irish rock art
is generally accessible and is often found in upland areas with Neolithic
settlements and monuments. It is most common on level surfaces and made
use of outcrops and boulders. It was seldom created on especially conspicuous
rocks, although some occur nearby (Bradley 1997a: chapters 5 and 6). Most of
the designs faced the sun. They are almost entirely curvilinear and can be
arranged along a continuum from cup marks to circular enclosures with
those motifs at their centre. The circular designs are often breached by a
radial line and comprise between one and eight concentric rings. Where there
were multiple circles, the motifs tend to be linked together in a more complex
pattern, but simpler designs are much more frequent. In this case the cups
are enclosed by a modest number of rings, and often by none at all. There are
few cases in which such designs were superimposed on one another, making
chronological studies even more problematical.
The carved rocks often show a broad gradation according to the topog-
raphy, the local pattern of settlement or the presence of ceremonial centres
(Bradley 1997a: chapters 6 and 7). The pattern changes from one region to
another, but there are cases in which the simple designs dominated by cup
marks are associated with lower ground than the other images. In the same
way, the more ornate carvings featuring multiple rings tend to be found
In Open Country 115
towards the edges of the settled land, often overlooking the surrounding area.
The same contrast can be inXuenced by the presence of major monuments,
such as stone circles or the earthwork enclosures known as henges. The visual
complexity of the rock carvings increases in the vicinity of such sites and is
reduced with distance away from them. The most elaborate designs overlook
the routes leading towards ceremonial centres, like those at Kilmartin in the
west of Scotland or the MilWeld Basin in north-east England. On the other
hand, the individual designs are far from uniform, and these tendencies
describe only the extremes in a wider range of variation. Thus cup-marked
rocks can be found alongside more complex carvings on the higher ground.
They also occur amidst the main monuments of the same period.
It is not clear how the carved rocks were used, but recent research shows
that they were not entirely isolated. Work at two sites in Scotland suggests that
the choice of motifs on individual sites may also have been inXuenced by the
characteristics of the rocks on which they were made. At Kilmartin the designs
were mostly on surfaces that had been modiWed by natural agencies; they
included natural cracks and channels, as well as veins of quartz (Jones 2005).
On Ben Lawers in the southern Highlands, the carved designs enhanced the
natural topography of the outcrops, so that a domed rock was surmounted by
a series of concentric rings, while the edges of a natural basin in the surface of
another stone provided the focus for a diVerent set of images. In turn those
designs were closely related to the positions of deposits of worked and broken
quartz. Fieldwork conducted by the writer and Aaron Watson in 2007 showed
that they were placed around the base of the rock that had been enclosed by
rings (Figure 40), some of them on a platform which had been built for the
purpose, while the hollow in the surface of the neighbouring outcrop was
the focus for a similar group of artefacts (Figure 41). Fewer had been placed
at the foot of the stone. There have not been many excavations on such
sites, but recent Weldwork near Kilmartin has produced comparable results
(Jones 2007a).
The best evidence for the chronology of megalithic art comes from Irish
sites. It is not clear when the tradition began, but that is partly because the
earliest passage tombs seem to have been in the west of Ireland where the
bedrock erodes so severely that carved designs are unlikely to survive. There is
more information from the Boyne Valley, where many of the images were
superimposed. Muiris OSullivan (1986) has identiWed two successive ways of
working the stone. An earlier depictive style involved drawing motifs directly
on the surface of the rock, while the later plastic style was characterized by
deeper three-dimensional images which formed more complex compositions
moulded around the contours of the stone. More recently George Eogan
(1997) has identiWed a series of overlays inside the main tomb at Knowth.
Figure 41. Two views of a decorated outcrop on Ben Lawers, Scotland. It was
decorated with non-Wgurative designs and associated with a deposit of worked and
broken quartz.
In Open Country 117
Taken in conjunction with the results of excavation, they provide the rudi-
ments of a still more complex sequence. The earliest images were not the
pecked decoration for which the site is famous, but a network of incised lines
forming zigzags, triangles and chevrons. The circles, arcs and spirals that are
so common in Irish megalithic art are not represented and may be a later
development. They are a special feature of the outer section of the passage and
the kerb delimiting the monument. Eogan (1998) believes that these struc-
tures were built afterwards, although there is curvilinear decoration on the
backs of some of the stones, suggesting that they had been taken from a more
ancient structure or had been decorated menhirs.
Other observations have been made in Orkney chambered tombs (Bradley,
Phillips, Richards, and Webb 2001). The main designs inside the passage
graves were linear patterns strikingly similar to the oldest motifs at Knowth,
but in this case they also occur on the walls of Neolithic houses. They
resemble the motifs associated with the earliest Grooved Ware. The later
pots in this tradition have plastic decoration more akin to the pecked designs
occasionally found in Orkney passage graves. Again they feature a few curvi-
linear elements.
Chapter 3 has already referred to the positioning of decorated panels in the
Irish monuments. If Eogan (1986) is correct, the kerb of the principal
monument at Knowth was built at a developed stage in the structural
sequence. It follows that the associated decoration should also be late in
date. This chronological evidence is signiWcant as very few of the kerbstones
at the seemingly earlier cemetery of Loughcrew had been embellished. That
could be explained because those monuments are exposed to natural weath-
ering, but another possibility is that the exteriors of these buildings were only
elaborated towards the end of the Irish sequence. Although there is little to
suggest that the kerbs at Newgrange and Knowth were dominated by curvi-
linear decoration, just outside them was a series of small circular stone settings
containing numerous fragments of quartz (Bradley 1998b: 1049). Their best
parallels are arrangements of boulders laid out on the surface before they were
covered by mounds. Similar features have also been identiWed on top of
some of the smaller tombs at Knowth. In each case their conWguration recalls
the circular imagery associated with these extraordinary monuments.
Although most scholars concede that certain motifs are shared between
megalithic art and open-air rock art, there are two objections to treating them
together. Both concern major features of the designs.
The Wrst objection is based on the use of linear decoration in megalithic art.
It is certainly true that lozenges, triangles, and zigzags play a prominent part
in the Irish tombs, but are rarely represented among the decoration on
natural outcrops. Eogan (1997 and 1998) has suggested that they were
associated with an early stage in the development of the principal monument

at Knowth, and possibly with a phase before the curvilinear designs were
made there. Even so, some of the angular patterns were later renewed by
pecking and became a major feature of the Wnished structure. In one respect
the evidence from Orkney is revealing. It seems possible that the oldest
elements in the local passage graves were geometric motifs like those at
Knowth, and that they were supplemented by curvilinear designs at a later
stage. In this case the sequence depends on comparison with pottery decor-
ation and is not based on superimposed designs inside the monuments. On
the other hand, the linear motifs inside the Orkney passage graves had a
specialized character and are closely comparable with those within the houses
of the same date (Bradley, Phillips, Richards, and Webb 2001). Others are
found on portable artefacts in the settlements there and on the Isle of Man
(Burrow 1997: Wg. 6.3). All the designs associated with domestic life were
conceived on an intimate scale. They required close attention from the viewer
and could never have been seen by many people. The same applies to the linear
decoration inside the tombs. Perhaps they emphasized the links between the
architecture of the dwellings and that of passage graves. There is no direct
evidence of the same relationship in Ireland, but the cemetery at Knowth was
certainly built over the sites of older houses (Eogan and Roche 1997).
The other motifs in Irish tombsparticularly the concentric circles and
spiralsmay have made other references. They occur throughout these
monuments, but their closest counterparts were created on natural surfaces
in the wider landscape. The same images occur in other media, so that
chambered cairns, henge monuments, and settings of monoliths all adopted
a circular ground plan. The contrasts with the angular designs can be reveal-
ing. Thus the interiors of the houses at Skara Brae and Barnhouse followed a
rectilinear layout, while the exterior appearance of these buildings was
roughly round or oval (Richards 2005). Is it possible that the linear designs
associated with megalithic tombs referred to the domestic arena, whist the
circular designs were associated with the world outside?
The second objection to any analysis which combines megalithic art and
open-air rock carvings concerns these curvilinear motifs. Jeremy DronWeld
(1996) has drawn comparisons between the circles and spirals carved at Irish
megaliths and the passage leading into the chamber. He suggests that they
evoke the sensation of a tunnel or vortex experienced in altered states of
consciousness. Those designs are subtly diVerent from their nearest equiva-
lents on natural surfaces. Spirals are much more common at the passage
tombs, while the circles associated with those monuments rarely have a
central cup mark and are never breached by a radial line. Those are exactly
the features that characterize the decorated outcrops in Britain and Ireland.
In Open Country 119
There is another way of thinking about the relationship between these

designs. The radial line which is so often found with cup and ring carvings
shows a path extending to the centre of the image from outside. It could
represent a tunnel leading into the solid stone. This interpretation suggests
that the rock face was a permeable membrane through which people could
pass (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1990). Where such a tunnel was repre-
sented by a solid structure it might be associated with circular images, but in
that case there was no need to depict a passage in the design. On the other
hand, where no such feature existed, it was suggested by using the convention
of a circle and a radial line. It may be that these supposedly separate motifs
were used to express the same idea.
To what extent can the evidence of open-air rock art illuminate the role of
the decorated monuments? As happened with Iberian Schematic Art, there
are similarities between these media.
The main sources of variation among the open-air rock carvings are the size
and elaboration of the circular designs. They were apparently inXuenced by a
number of diVerent factors: their distance from the main areas of settled land;
their proximity to major groups of monuments; and their positions along the
routes leading towards these places. Other elements may have a made a smaller
contribution. The motifs that are shared with megalithic art tend to be found on
steeply sloping or vertical rocks, unlike the other petroglyphs that were normally
on level surfaces. Those unusual designs may also be found in increased num-
bers close to monument complexes like that at Kilmartin, and can occasionally
be carved on the monoliths of stone circles (Bradley 1997a: chapter 7). In each
case it seems as if these designs were composed with some understanding of the
wider contexts of such places within the Neolithic landscape.
At the same time, it remains unclear how such imagery is to be interpreted.
The close relationship between the more complex carvings and groups of
major monuments might suggest that they were addressed to a larger audi-
ence than the others. That may be so, but there is no way of telling whether the
visual complexity of the motifs imparted a greater amount of information.
Whether or not certain designs referred to altered states of consciousness, the
fact that they were entirely abstract could have protected their meanings from
strangers, conveying certain messages to the appropriate people and restrict-
ing their availability to others.
If the size and visual complexity of the circular images varied according to
the contexts in which they were viewed, it seems possible that the same applies
to their counterparts in megalithic art. Here the images are often larger and
more ornate than those carved on natural surfaces. There is no absolute break
between these separate contexts, but there is an obvious contrast. As much as
anything else it was expressed by the virtuosity with which these monuments
had been built and their component parts had been decorated. Alfred Gells
reference to enchantment is surely apposite here.
Access to the open-air rock carvings may have been controlled by social
conventions that cannot be documented by archaeology, but in the case of
passage graves there could have been physical as well as intellectual restric-
tions on those who would encounter the images. Chapter 3 made the point
that the art of the Boyne Valley passage tombs was directed towards two
diVerent audiences: the large groups who might have circulated around the
decorated kerbs of these monuments, and those people who were allowed
inside the passage and the chamber. Not only would they have encountered
subtly diVerent images, the designs were organized in rather diVerent ways.
Andrew Cochrane (2005 and 2006) has made the interesting point that the
abstract motifs within these buildings have a Xuid character; it is hard to grasp
any overall design as some of the motifs are hidden, and the evidence of
superimposition suggests that the array of visual images was constantly
changing (Figure 42). That would be consistent with the idea that such
designs referred to altered states of consciousness. The people who remained
outside would not have shared these impressions, for there is less evidence
that the designs on the kerb were modiWed. What has been interpreted as a
series of successive phases in the development of megalithic art may have been
a more dynamic process in which the images were always in Xux. On the other
hand, the superimposed designs inside the monument could still be recog-
nized: that is how they have been identiWed during modern Weldwork.
Andrew Jones suggests that it was one way in which past uses of the monu-
ment might have been recalled (2007b: 17380). At the same time, the
increasing use of pecking to roughen the surface of the orthostats means
that each successive layer of images was obscured, and in the end some of
them may have been obliterated. In a sense each set of designs receded into the
past. The same might have applied to memories of the people whose remains
had been buried inside these buildings.
Such arguments apply mainly to the stones in the chamber and passage.
Nevertheless the interior and exterior decoration share on important charac-
teristic, for many of the most striking images feature both angular and
curvilinear motifs, which were often brought together to form unusually
complex designs. If these motifs referred to the domestic sphere and the
wider landscape respectively, the tombs themselves would provide a micro-
cosm of the Neolithic world (Figure 43). Rather than presenting models of a
three-tier cosmology, they may have been places where categories that were
kept apart in daily life were synthesized in architectural form. Mortuary rites
would provide an appropriate setting, for this was where the social order was
unmade and brought into being again.
In Open Country 121
Figure 42. Pecked motif on the wall of the eastern passage of the main tomb at
Knowth.
Figure 43. The megalithic art of the Boyne Valley as a synthesis of the wider world.
The angular designs on the left are associated with a Neolithic house at Pool (Orkney)
and with a decorated plaque from the settlement at Ronaldsway (Isle of Man).
The curvilinear designs on the right are found on rock outcrops in northern Britain.
In that sense the greatest of the decorated tombs encapsulated the qualities
of the landscape around them. The idea may seem far-fetched, but it would
certainly explain why the tombs of the Boyne Valley incorporated raw mater-
ials that had introduced from much of the eastern seaboard of Ireland (Eogan
1999). Some of the stones were simply pebbles that could have been brought
to these monuments as oVerings. Others, like the great deposit of quartz at
Newgrange, played a role in the design of these buildings. Again the process of
creating and changing these places may have performed a vital part in public
ceremony, and it could even be why so many of the structures that can be
recognized today were built out of the decorated fragments of buildings that
had been destroyed. That is another topic which requires more research.
This chapterand Part II of the bookends by emphasizing the intimate
and intense relationship between the images within stone-built tombs and the
people who encountered them. It is not clear that megalithic art is a
particularly useful term, but the juxtaposition of such evocative imagery
and such extraordinary places would have provided an almost unparalleled
experience in the Europe of earlier prehistory. It is right to acknowledge this,
even if the archaeological evidence is still too fragmentary to take the reader
very far inside the Neolithic mind.
Part III
Image and Audience in
Bronze Age Scandinavia
6
Ships on Bronzes: Ships on Stones
BRO N Z E AGE I M AG E S I N S O U TH SC A N D I NAV I A :

A R EADERS GUIDE
Part III of this book is concerned with the distinctive images created between
about 1600 and 300 BC in Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. It is a study of how
they were used and of the audiences who encountered them. These designs are
particularly suited to this kind of analysis as they contrast in many diVerent
ways with the repertoire of megalithic art (Figure 44).
The most important contrast is that the Bronze Age images are largely
Wgurative, in contrast to the decoration found inside Irish tombs which is
abstract. That distinction is still more striking as naturalistic designs were a
new development in parts of Northern Europe at the beginning of the Bronze
Age. Another diVerence is signiWcant, too. Megalithic art is deWned less by its
style than by its context, although Chapter 5 showed that were some connections
between the motifs associated with passage graves and those on artefacts and
rock outcrops. The visual culture of the Nordic Bronze Age is even more diverse.
It is represented by decorated metalwork in northern Germany, Denmark and
southern Sweden (Kaul 1998). Further to the north, some of the same elements
are a feature of open-air rock art (Malmer 1981), while there is more limited
evidence for the use of similar designs in stone settings or geoglyphs, many of
which are recorded on the Baltic island of Gotland (Artelius 1996). To some
extent the distributions of all three phenomena overlap, but there are also
elements which are peculiar to each of these media (Figure 45).
Few of the designs are non-Wgurative, although there is disagreement over
the identiWcation of individual images. It is generally accepted that among the
commonest elements shared between bronze artefacts and rock carvings are
boats (many of them with their crews), sun symbols, and horses. Portable
artefacts also depict sea creatures, while human Wgures, weapons, and other
species of animals are found in open-air rock art. The comparatively rare
geoglyphs have a smaller repertoire and represent ships and the sun.
Although the rock carvings have attracted most attentionsince 1994
those at Tanum in western Sweden have been a World Heritage Sitesome
126 Image and Audience in Bronze Age Scandinavia
Figure 44. The sites and regions discussed in Part III.
of the most detailed studies have been of the metalwork which carries similar
decoration. Many of the artefacts have been found together with other objects
in graves and can be related to the chronology worked out by Oscar Montelius
in the late nineteenth century (Graslund 1987). Sometimes they can also be
compared with well-dated objects in Central Europe (Kaul 1998). At the same
time, it is only recently that much excavation has been undertaken at rock
carvings, and so far they have provided less chronological information than
had been hoped. Indeed, a number of the burnt deposits associated with these
sites are rather later than the dates attributed to the images (Bengtsson 2004;
Kaul 2006a). This problem has still to be resolved. At present the chronology
of the petroglyphs, particularly those depicting boats, is based on comparison
with the designs found on the metalwork. There are also cases in which
distinctive kinds of tools or weapons are depicted on the decorated outcrops.
In that case they are dated according to the same principles as the objects
themselves (Malmer 1981).
Ships on Bronzes: Ships on Stones 127
Figure 45. Outline distributions of Bronze Age decorated razors, carvings of

ships, and stone ship settings in Southern Scandinavia.
The images had a very long history, extending from the beginning of the
Bronze Age into the Early Iron Age, but the dating evidence is unevenly
distributed. Few Early Bronze Age artefacts carry any Wgurative decoration,
but there is enough evidence to deWne some types of boat which also feature
among the rock carvings (Kaul 1998: chapter 6). Artefacts of the same date are
depicted at these sites. Far more images date from the Late Bronze Age when they
were a particular characteristic of the razors found with cremation burials. The
designs have been compared with those on metal artefacts in north Germany and
Central Europe, but again they also occur in rock art. Most of the stone settings
depicting ships and the sun were constructed during the same period (Kaul
2004). The rock carvings include drawings of boats which can be dated by
another method, for they show a distinctive type of vessel which is not illustrated
on the decorated artefacts. Instead it is represented by the well-preserved
wooden vessel from Hjortspring on the island of Als in Denmark which was
deposited in a pool during the fourth century BC (Randsborg 1995; Crumlin-
Pedersen and Trakadas eds. 2003). Although ships no longer appear on metal
artefacts, it is obvious that they were still being pictured on rock outcrops.
On a broad geographical scale the distributions of decorated metalwork,
rock carvings and geoglyphs overlap, but they can also complement one
another. With only a few exceptions, they extend from northern Germany
through Denmark, southern and central Sweden, as far as sub-Arctic Norway.
Most of the designs are found in a series of regional groups, but, taken
together, their distribution runs from Hamburg to Trondheim.
SHIPS ON BRONZES
Two of these media (the metalwork and the stone settings) feature a small
number of distinctive images, while the third shows much more variety.
Perhaps the most coherent group is represented by the decorated artefacts,
although most of the naturalistic images date from the Late Bronze Age.
These drawings have been analysed by the Danish archaeologist Flemming
Kaul (1998), whose study has the evocative title Ships on Bronzes. The
interpretation put forward in his book provides the starting point for any
account of the visual images of South Scandinavia (Figure 46).
Ships on Bronzes is concerned with the decorated metalwork of Denmark,
but it sets this material in a wider context through comparisons with artefacts
and rock carvings over a larger area extending from Norway to Central
Europe and even to the Mediterranean. These analogies are explored in
more detail in another book by Kaul which is concerned with Bronze Age
religion (Kaul 2004). One of the strengths of his analysis is that metalwork
can be closely dated. It follows that the designs found on these objects can be
placed in chronological order.
Although some Early Bronze Age rock carvings may be identiWed through
comparisons with dated metalwork, the images were unevenly distributed
between these two media. During that period metalwork was rarely decorated
with naturalistic motifs, although some of the curvilinear imagery has been
interpreted by Klavs Randsborg as representations of the sun (Randsborg and
Christensen 2006: 5993). Ships of Early Bronze Age type seem to be more
frequent among the petroglyphs, which also feature artefacts of the same date:
axes and swords. In the Late Bronze Age, however, much more metalwork was
Figure 46. Two boats, a Wsh, and the sun on a Late Bronze Age razor.
embellished with Wgurative designs. As Kaul (1998) has argued, they often
include the same few elements: boats, together with their crews; drawings of
the sun; horses, Wshes, and snakes. Other more specialized motifs are occa-
sionally depicted on or above the boats (Figure 46).
These designs can be found on weapons and personal ornaments, but they
are more common on the bronze razors that were buried with the dead. Such
artefacts had been used on more than one occasion as their blades are often
worn, but they must have played a specialized role in the mortuary rite for
they are associated with cremations but do not seem to have passed through
the pyre (Kaul 1998: 13057). One possibility is that they had been used to
prepare the corpse for the funeral. In that respect they may have played a
similar role to the knives and tweezers with which they are commonly
associated. On the other hand, it would not explain why the razors had
been used more than once. Kaul suggests that they might have been presented
to young men on their initiation as adults. The Wrst time that they shaved
could have marked an important change of status. A similar idea is suggested
by Paul Treherne (1995), who argues that artefacts of this kind were used to
create an ideal image of the masculine warrior. That was not always true, as a
study of bronze razors in the east of Sweden has shown that some of them
were placed in womens graves. Susanne Thedeen (2003) considers that they
were employed in other rites of passage. Perhaps the razors, and the items
associated with them, were used not only for the removal of hair but for
scariWcation and tattooing. It was because they were so closely linked to the
identities of certain individuals that they accompanied them in the grave. As
artefacts connected with body decoration, they may have played a similar role
to the sets of personal ornaments in the votive deposits of the same period.
Kaul suggests that the main source of inspiration for the Late Bronze Age
decorated metalwork came from the UrnWeld Culture of North-Central
Europe, but in the Early Bronze Age, he argues, the symbolic importance of
the ship may be explained by more local concerns (1998: 84). It seems as if the
metal used in Scandinavia had to be imported. Many of the styles of artefact
employed in Northern Europe were Wrst developed in regions further to the
south. That connection is plausible as amber was exported from Scandinavia
during the same period. It seems possible that furs, pelts, and seal oil were also
provided by hunters in the north, but this remains hypothetical.
The long distance movement of such materials depended on travel by water,
and, for Kaul, it explains why the boat took on a special signiWcance in the
visual culture of the Early Bronze Age. It would have provided the means of
communication between the Danish islands and Sweden, and between Jutland
and Norway. It was often the most suitable method of travelling through
inland areas, using the rivers and fjords that communicated between areas
of high ground which were diYcult to cross in summer and impassable in

winter. Kristian Kristiansen (1987) has drawn attention to the chains of Early
Bronze Age barrows and cairns that follow the coast of the Baltic and the North
Atlantic, from Denmark into remote parts of Sweden and Norway. Some were
located on small oVshore islands, and Kristiansen suggests that they were used
as seamarks by navigators travelling from the south.
O R I G I N S AN D W I D E R C ON N E C TI O N S
It would be wrong to look for an entirely pragmatic explanation for this

emphasis on the ship in the visual imagery of Early Bronze Age Scandinavia.
Like many other apparently mundane activities, the process of travelling by
water was ritualized in the ancient world. That could account for the striking
similarities between the symbolic signiWcance of the ship in South Scandi-
navia and its importance in other regions. It is revealing to compare the
European evidence with that from the PaciWc, where the purely archaeological
material can be interpreted with the help of ethnographic sources.
Here archaeologists confront a similar problem (Ballard, Bradley, Norden-
borg Myhre, and Wilson 2003). Over an enormous area extending across
South-east Asia and Micronesia the ship provides a means of transport vital
to long distance trade. At the same time, the boat is used as a metaphor for
the organization of individual communities, and a means of passing between
the worlds of the living and the dead. Just as the ship is a symbol associated
with Bronze Age cemeteries in Scandinavia, in the PaciWc people may be
buried in stone settings in the form of seagoing vessels. There is even a case in
which the same word is used for a coYn and a boat. Ships may be depicted on
elaborate metal objects just as they are in Northern Europe, and in both
regions they Wgure prominently in rock art. At times the resemblance between
these unrelated traditions is even more arresting, for the association between
the ship and the sun identiWed on Bronze Age metalwork by Kaul is evidenced
in the Solomon Islands.
This comparison is so suggestive because there is no possibility of contacts
between these two areas. The striking resemblance between them is due to the
special signiWcance of travel by water and the various ways in which it has
been ritualized. That is important as it provides an alternative explanation for
some of the links that have been suggested between the Early Bronze Age of
South Scandinavia and the Mediterranean. Such ideas played a fundamental
role in Monteliuss studies of Bronze Age chronology, but they have been
discussed more recently by Kristian Kristiansen and Thomas Larsson (2005)
in their book The Rise of Bronze Age Society. For them, the ship provides a
metaphor for the long distance connections between the Northern Bronze
Age and a vast territory extending from Egypt and Mesopotamia through
Anatolia to Greece. Of course such arguments are controversial as they
depend on comparisons that range widely across time and space, but the
subtitle of their book is revealing: Travels, Transmissions and Transformations.
Following the work of the American anthropologist Mary Helms (1998), they
emphasize the social power that can be gained by travel, and by access to
exotic goods and knowledge of unfamiliar beliefs. It is not surprising that sea
transport plays such a prominent role in this interpretation.
S H I P S O N S TO NE
The proponents of this hypothesis do not conWne themselves to the long

distance connections suggested by Bronze Age metalwork. They also consider
the distinctive images found in South Scandinavian rock art (Figure 47).
Sometimes the designs play a direct role in their interpretations. For instance,
Kristiansen (2004) suggests that some of the drawings of non-local artefacts
recorded the visits of chiefs from distant areas. Similarly, Johan Ling (2004)
argues that concentrations of rock carvings on the west coast of Sweden
identify the places from which local elites had embarked on journeys of
their own. The Rise of Bronze Age Society considers a series of exotic artefacts
among the petroglyphs. They include the relatively rare designs associated
with burial cists (Jellestad Syvertsen 2002).
Such arguments are based on a comparatively small sample of the rock
carvings, whose overall distribution extends over a wider area than the decorated
metalwork. The range of images certainly overlaps with those on razors and
other artefacts, but it is much more varied. In fact the carved designs diVer to a
signiWcant extent from one region to another. Not surprisingly, the closest links
with the decorated bronzes are found towards the south where their distribu-
tions overlap. Further to the north they diverge (Malmer 1981). It follows that
South Scandinavian rock art cannot be treated as a unitary phenomenon.
Which features connect the rock carvings with the decorated artefacts?
Drawings of ships are the most important element, while the sun symbols that
are found on the metalwork are not particularly common. The same applies
to depictions of horses. Drawings of snakes and Wsh also appear on bronze
razors but are rarely found in South Scandinavian rock art.
By contrast, there are important elements that are represented among the rock
carvings but are rarely or never found amongst the designs on metalwork. The
Figure 47. Carvings of ships at Himmelstalund, Sweden.
commonest are the drawings of human Wgures, which are more common on the
decorated outcrops than are on bronzes. The petroglyphs also include wheeled
vehicles (many of them drawn by horses), footprints, and cup marks, but they do
not appear on portable artefacts. Other designs that seem to be peculiar to the
rock carvings include wild and domesticated animals, weapons, ploughs, axes,
and musical instruments. A still more important distinction is that the rock
carvings illustrate complex scenes in which many of these elements are combined.
Thus they show people farming, hunting, Wghting, dancing, and moving in
procession across the decorated surface. Any one panel may feature several
diVerent scenes, and sometimes they are framed by natural features like running
water, cracks or mineral veins in the rock (Hauptmann Wahlgren 2000). By
contrast, a Late Bronze Age razor illustrates only one scene. There is another
important diVerence between these media: the razors were formed in a single
operation, whereas some of the rock outcrops were decorated incrementally over
a substantial period of time. New designs might be superimposed on older ones
and certain of the existing images were recut (Hauptmann Wahlgren 2002).
There are marked regional variations in the composition of South Scandi-
navian rock art, and not all these elements are found throughout its distribution.
Thus the motifs that are interpreted as sun symbols are more common towards
the south where most of the decorated razors are found. Drawings of weapons
are most often recorded in southern and eastern Sweden, while outsize human
Wgures, unambiguously male, are a particular feature of Bohuslan on the west
coast (Malmer 1981). The same applies to the drawings of wheeled vehicles.
Carved footprints, or foot soles, occur very widely but are particularly common
in sub-Arctic Norway, among the northernmost carvings made in this tradition
(Soggnes 2001). These are general trends, however, and are subject to numerous
exceptions. In any case strikingly diVerent combinations of motifs may be found
on nearby rocks, or even on diVerent parts of the same carved surface.
The associations of these carvings have attracted attention during recent
years. They can be linked to particular environments, to rocks with distinctive
characteristics, to settlement areas and also to Bronze Age monuments.
A common pattern is for the rock carvings to be associated with water
(Bengtsson 2004). This relationship can take many diVerent forms. Although
they may be some way inland today, a large number of the decorated rocks
followed the Bronze Age coast: a relationship that has been obscured because
the land has risen. A few sites may have been located at the waters edge,
but many more were within sight of the sea. At Tanum in Bohuslan most of
the sites were within 100 metres of the contemporary shoreline; of these, the
majority were less than 20 metres from the tidal margin (Ling 2008: 148).
The sea was retreating during the course of the Bronze Age so that places that
might once have been close to water were eventually located towards the
limits of marshes or bogs. A graphic demonstration of this relationship is
provided by Johan Lings work in the west of Sweden. Here he has identiWed a
series of carvings of ships which can be dated by comparison with the
decorated metalwork studied by Kaul. The earliest vessels are represented
on the upper part of the rocks, while the later forms are lower down. In this
case it seems as if these designs were meant to be as close as possible to the
wateras the sea level fell, the carvings followed suit (Ling 2008: 101). Other
sites were around the margins of freshwater lakes and bogs or were situated
beside rivers and springs. The close relationship between somebut not all
of the rock carvings and water recalls the importance of boats, but other
factors might be equally relevant. During the Scandinavian Bronze Age such
environments were among the principal locations for oVerings of metalwork.
Away from the coast rock carvings can take another form. Three detailed
studies illustrate this point. In Stjrdal, near Trondheim, some of the inland
sites are dominated by drawings of footprints (Soggnes 2001). In the same
way, Weldwork in the interior of Smaland in southern Sweden recorded a very
diVerent series of rock carvings from the well-known sites along the Baltic
coast. Instead of the familiar drawings of ships, the commonest motifs were
circles, cup marks, and foot soles. There were occasional ring crosses which
might have been drawings of the sun, and possible depictions of carts or other
vehicles, but in the course of this project just one drawing of a boat was
identiWed (Skoglund 2006). There is similar evidence from the raised ground
of the Bjare peninsula in south-west Sweden. Here cup marks and footprints
are particularly important. Although there are boat burials and a stone ship
setting in this area, very few vessels features in the local rock art (Nord 2007).
The rock itself might also be important. Several factors are relevant here. In
certain cases an outcrop might have been selected because of its distinctive
shape. For example, a number of rocks in south-west Norway resemble an
upturned boat (Nordenborg Myhre 2004: 144 and 1789). That relationship
is particularly obvious at Revheim (Figure 48), but it is also illustrated by an
enormous outcrop at Himmelstalund, on the edge of the Swedish city of
Norrkoping (Hauptmann Wahlgren 2002). Both these sites feature numerous
drawings of ships. Revheim introduces another issue, too. The position of the
decorated cliV allowed people to observe the midwinter solstice as the sun
rose and set by two landmarks visible on the horizon (Vinsrygg 1980).
The micro-topography of the outcrop could be equally signiWcant. It deter-
mined which of the images would be visible, and the optimum positions for
seeing them. In some cases it also constrained the viewers path around the
decorated surface. Again the contours of the rock should be considered in
relation to the position of the sun, for it could emphasize the locations of certain
of the designs. As John Coles (2006) has pointed out, many of the carvings are
best inspected in low light. Some of them would be seen most clearly at sunrise,
while others are illuminated by the setting sun. They could often be recognized
because they were wet, and it is no accident that a number of these images were
washed by shallow streams (Figure 49). Others were highlighted because they
made use of mineral veins or natural basins in the surface of the rock (Figure 50).
This served to pick out some drawings rather than others, but it also made them
appear more realistic (Hauptmann Wahlgren 2000). There are cases in which
depictions of boats cluster in the areas covered by running water, or where they
Figure 48. The decorated outcrop at Revheim, Norway. The form of the rock
resembles an enormous upturned boat.
travel along veins of quartz which resemble the surface of the sea (Bradley, Jones,
Nordenborg Myhre, and Sackett 2003).
It is more diYcult to discuss the relationship between rock carvings and the
wider pattern of settlement, but at one time the solution seemed obvious. The
case was best set out by Jarl Nordbladh (1980) and Ulf Bertilsson (1987) in
their accounts of the Bronze Age landscape of Bohuslan. The rock carvings
were located by unusually productive grazing land and overlooked the main
settled areas. By contrast, burial cairns of the same date were on higher
ground. The interpretation seemed to be supported by the discovery of
burnt stones and occasional artefacts at these sites.
That attractive interpretation cannot be accepted today. The fertile soils
associated with the rock carvings are often the marine sediments left by the
retreating sea, and some of these places would have been located on the shoreline
when the drawings were made. Others would have been associated with tracts of
salt marsh that were unsuitable for farming. In fact they were not settled until the
Iron Age (Ling 2008: 11113). The Wnds of burnt stone seem to be associated
with the rituals performed on and around the decorated outcrops and should
not be confused with the remains of settlements. They are better compared with
the contents of more specialized sites with evidence of cremation pyres, feasting,
and bronze production. Where domestic buildings have been excavated, as they
Figure 49. Carvings of ships on the part of a decorated panel at Tanum, Sweden, aVected
by running water (shaded). The presence of surface water is often thought of as a threat
to the preservation of the designs. Here it is treated as part of the composition.
have at Pryssgarden near to Himmelstalund, they seem to have been established

some distance away from the rock carvings (Borna-Ahlqvist 2002; Nilsson
2005). In Bohuslan, the nearest settlements were between 500 and 1000 metres
from the main carved rocks (Ling 2008: 5).
Figure 50. The framing of carved designs at Tanum, Sweden by natural veins in
the surface of the rock. Geological elements like these should be regarded as parts
of the composition.
Lastly, a small number of the designs found in South Scandinavian rock art
are directly associated with burials. This evidence takes two forms. There are
decorated surfaces associated with Bronze Age cairns, and there are a small a
few cases in which parts of those monuments had been decorated in the same
style.
The Wrst of these relationships depends on the juxtaposition of rock
carvings and Bronze Age cairns. This is not convincing in itself, but there
are some instances in which a direct connection seems obvious. At Jarrestad

and O r in southern Sweden Wles of human footprints extend from two such
monuments and lead down the rock towards a bog (Coles 1999; Skoglund
2006: 2933). At Hjortekrog in the same region, a Late Bronze Age burial
cairn was superimposed on a series of carved ships (Widholm 1999), and at
Unneset in the west of Norway similar vessels are depicted travelling between
a cairn and the waters edge (Wrigglesworth 2002).
The second case is where carved stones formed part of the fabric of such
monuments (Figure 51). In some cases the details are obscure, but there are
instances in which the carvings were inside burial cists, as happened at Kivik
in southern Sweden (Randsborg 1993) and Mjeltehaugen in the west of
Norway (Linge 2005). Another arrangement is for the decoration to be created
Figure 51. The range of motifs associated with decorated burial cists in Sweden
and Norway.
on the kerb of a burial mound. This occurred at Sagaholm, where the decor-
ated stones were concealed as the monument was extended (Goldhahn 1999).
There have been attempts to interpret the organization of the decorated panels
at Kivik and Sagaholm but they suVer from the disadvantage that Wnds of this
nature are rare. At this stage it may be enough to say that they suggest that
certain of these images, in particular ships, horses, and wheeled vehicles, could
be associated with the dead.
The images inside the cist at Kivik have played a major part in discussions of
the long distance connections of the Scandinavian Bronze Age, even though
their exact date is uncertain (Kristiansen and Larsson 2005: 18699). This
raises a question that has already been asked in relation to the decorated
metalwork. To what extent were images in the rock carvings of local inspir-
ation, and how far were they inXuenced by contacts with other parts of Europe?
ORIGINS AND WIDER CONNECTIONS
In the past the carved rocks of Southern Scandinavia have been described as
Farmers Art to distinguish them from the Hunters Art that occurs further to
the north. That procedure is unsatisfactory, and today those traditions are
usually described in neutral terms as the Southern and Northern styles
respectively (Soggnes 1998). Their distributions overlap, particularly in west-
ern Norway, but it is uncertain whether the same applies to their chronology
(Figure 52). Images in these two styles were created in very diVerent settings
from one another, although there are a few outcrops at which they were
superimposed. Most of the designs were carved, but the Northern Style also
includes some paintings whose distribution extends over a larger area than
the petroglyphs. As its original name suggests, these pictures feature hunting
scenes, wild animals, and sea creatures. It is clear that that the Northen
tradition originated during the Mesolithic period, but it is not known when
it went out of use. Kalle Sognnes (1995a and 2001) has suggested that in the
region where both styles are represented they may have been used concur-
rently for a thousand years.
Most scholars agree on the chronology of the Southern style of rock art,
but less is known about the circumstances in which it was Wrst adopted.
As was the case with the decorated metalwork, it is easy to invoke connections
with Southern Europe, and speciWc designs play an important part in the
thesis put forward by Kristiansen and Larsson (2005). There are diYculties
with this approach, for the real problem is not to identify stylistic links with
distant areas but to show why foreign imagery should have been so acceptable
Figure 52. Approximate distribution

of the Northern and Southern styles of
Scandinavian rock art, showing the area
of overlap between them.
in Scandinavia. These authors believe that it happened because local leaders

wished to emphasis their access to restricted knowledge and their contacts
with remote areas. A simpler explanation could have something to oVer.
The chronology of the Northern Style may be rather uncertain, but a
number of writers have suggested that some of its characteristic imagery
can be interpreted in relation to Circumpolar ethnography (Zvelebil and
Jordan 1999; cf. Jordan 2003). That is to say, the belief system documented
in these drawings and paintings had not changed beyond all recognition when
it was Wrst recorded in the seventeenth century AD (Lahelma 2008). By then,
paintings and carvings had not been produced for many years, although
similar images were present on Saami drums (Helskog 1987). If these con-
nections are real, it follows that the same beliefs had a very long history. If they
maintained their integrity between the Mesolithic period and the Christian
era, they must have been current during the Bronze Age. At one time they
could have been important throughout Scandinavia. It may be because
traditional ideas were so tenacious that they provided a context in which a

new set of symbols could be interpreted.
That would explain the similarities between the rock art of Northernmost
Europe and some characteristics of the Southern Style. They have less to do
with the images than with their contexts (Mandt 1995; Bradley 2007b).
Nevertheless a few motifs do seem to be common to both of these tradi-
tions. The most important is the boat. Seagoing vessels were portrayed
in Northern rock art at an earlier date than any of the images in South
Scandinavia, although the latest examples at sites like Alta and Namforsen
may be of similar age. They are not represented in every group of rock
carvings. One feature which these traditions share is an emphasis on bodily
transformation. In the north, this is shown by drawings which combine
the attributes of boats and elks, or those of humans and Wsh. In the south,
the same applies to a comparatively few drawings in which people take on the
characteristics of animals or birds. Here some of the ships have a horses head
on the prow.
Much closer connections are suggested by the siting of these images. To a
certain extent the carvings and paintings in the Northern Style appear in
diVerent contexts. The petroglyphs were often associated with rivers, springs,
cataracts and the sea, while the paintings were sometimes placed on vertical
rocks overlooking bodies of still water (Bolin 1999: 146). In each case the
association with the waters edge is a signiWcant factor, for in Arctic ethnog-
raphy it is where the three layers of the cosmosthe earth, the sky, and the
seaall meet (Mulk and Bayliss-Smith 2006: chapter 8). Cataracts are of
special importance in this scheme, and some of the largest groups of rock
carvings were located on small islands in the midst of a series of rapids.
Rock carvings in the Southern Style illustrate the same emphasis on water
and the seashore. Many of the drawings of ships were intimately associated with
the coast, and others were located beside rivers, bogs, and lakes. In some cases
the carvings were set back from the sea but commanded a view of the waters
edge. One of the exceptions was the decorated outcrop at Himmelstalund
which overlooked a major river in between two cataracts (Hauptmann Wahlgren
2002).
Other elements in Circumpolar ethnography may be reXected by the
Bronze Age archaeology of Southern Scandinavia. One is the burial of the
dead on islands (Zvelebil and Jordan 1999). This is a feature of the Baltic and
North Atlantic coasts and has already been interpreted by Kristiansen (1987)
in relation to long distance navigation. The ethnographic evidence suggests
another perspective. Some of those islands are small and isolated, and it seems
unlikely that they could have been inhabited in prehistory. In that case it
would have been necessary to transport the dead by boat. It is another element
that features in the ethnographic record, but in this case it is clear that the
ships of the dead were not equipped with oars, paddles or sails; instead they
were allowed to drift (Zvelebil and Jordan 1999). In that respect they would
have been very diVerent from the vessels used by the living.
Again there is a link with South Scandinavian rock art. Although ships are
among the commonest motifs, only rarely were they provided with any means of
locomotion. Although most of the vessels do have crews, they appear curiously
passive, as if they were unable to inXuence the outcome of their voyage. The
carvings of ships suggest that there were important changes during the course of
the Bronze Age. The earlier vessels are more often depicted with crews, but a
greater proportion of those dated to the Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age
appear to be entirely empty (Ling 2008: chapter 10). The connection with
northern beliefs is tenuous but plausible, yet it may help to explain why drawings
of this kind can be associated with burial cairns.
In contrast to Kristiansen and Larsson, Sognnes (2001) suggests that this
style Wrst developed around the northern limit of its distribution where the
importance of rock carvings was already well established. That is not to
overlook the connections that have been suggested with Central Europe,
which are based less on the deWnitions of boats then on other designs. It
might even suggest why the Bronze Age inhabitants of Southern Scandinavia
would have been peculiarly receptive to the visual images inspired by contacts
with remote areas. Unfamiliar elements could easily have been interpreted in
terms of local beliefs and preoccupations. Such beliefs were extremely ten-
acious and may have developed during the Mesolithic period. In the Arctic
they retained their inXuence for much longer, so that they were still important
at the time of the Christian missionaries.
SHIPS MADE OF STONE
Decorated metalwork and petroglyphs share a common feature, for both are
characterized by drawings. A third medium is less often considered in ac-
counts of Bronze Age Scandinavia. Small stone-built monuments make use of
similar designs. They cannot be described as sculptures as they were built
rather than carved, and yet they portray some of the same elements. There are
rings of boulders, and there are low stone settings in the form of a ship
(Capelle 1986 and 1995; Artelius 1996). The latter are sometimes accompan-
ied by the circular monuments, but they can also be found with platforms or
walled enclosures whose plan resembles that of a small house.
Figure 53. The largest of the Bronze Age ship settings at Snackedal, Sweden.
The most distinctive of these structures are the ship settings, the majority of
which date from the Late Bronze Age (Figure 53). They are quite diVerent
from the more impressive arrangements of monoliths built during the Wrst
millennium AD and occur in small numbers close to both the Baltic and the
North Atlantic. The greatest concentration is on Gotland, where there is little
evidence of rock art (Hallin 2002). Another major group is on the east coast of
Sweden in an area with easy access to that island (Widholm 1998). These
monuments are associated with cremation burials, a few of which include the
bronze razors discussed earlier in this chapter.
It seems likely that Late Bronze Age ship settings were full size copies of
actual boats, and the best preserved monuments even represent details of the
deck, the prow and the stern. Rausing (1984) and Capelle (1995) have
concluded that these vessels were of two diVerent types: the smaller ones
were suitable for short journeys, but there were longer, narrower craft which
they identify as warships (Ellmers 1995). A minimum amount of space would
be needed for a vessel to be paddled or rowed, and comparison with surviving
prehistoric boatsespecially those from Dover (Clark 2004) and Hjortspring
(Crumlin-Pedersen and Trazadas eds. 2003)makes it possible to estimate
the sizes of their crews. In that case the smaller ship settings in south-east
Sweden represent vessels that could accommodate between six and sixteen
people; the larger stone ships indicate crews of between twenty and forty
(Bradley 2008).
These Wgures can be compared with the evidence of rock carvings and
decorated metalwork, both of which depict members of the crews. Since the
vessels are drawn in side view, each crew stroke should represent a pair
of individuals, one sitting opposite the other. The rock art of south-east
Swedenone of the regions with a concentration of ship settingsshows
boats with crews consisting of approximately ten, twenty and thirty-six
people. They are not unlike the estimates based on the stone monuments.
In Bohuslan, the Early Bronze Age boats usually carry between twelve and
twenty-four people, although occasional vessels are much larger. The Wgure
for the Late Bronze Age is similar: the commonest estimate is fourteen (Ling
2008: 1917). On the other hand, the number of crew strokes depicted on the
decorated metalwork from Denmarkthe only country for which a compre-
hensive catalogue is availableis considerably higher, suggesting that many
of these artefacts depict ships with crews of between twenty and sixty people;
the most common estimate is forty (Bradley 2008). Hardly any of these vessels
can be compared with the smaller boats represented by rock carvings and ship
settings. Instead the drawings on the metalwork are probably pictures of
warships.
Many of the Bronze Age ship settings on Gotland are located close to the
shoreline (Hallin 2002). They are unevenly distributed, with four concentra-
tions of monuments along the east coast and another three to the west. Only
one major group is found in the interior. All the local concentrations of ship
settings are in the same areas as round cairns. Like their counterparts in
eastern Sweden, the stone boats were of various diVerent sizes, although the
overall range is similar, suggesting that they represented the same kinds of
vessels. Where they diVer is in their arrangement on the ground (Capelle
1986). Although they can occur singly or in pairs, there are other cases in
which a series of stone vessels was constructed side by side, as happened at
LiVride. There are also sites like Rannarve where the ship settings were laid
out in a line, leaving no space in between them. These small Xeets are not
unlike those portrayed in Scandinavian rock carvings (Figure 54).
On the Swedish mainland ship settings are often found together with other
constructions. The most distinctive are either square or rectangular. Perhaps
some were open enclosures before they were Wlled with rubble. Like the stone
ships, they may be based on a familiar prototype, for they have similar
proportions to Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age houses, although they
are not as large as those buildings (Widholm and Regnell 2001; Artursson
Figure 54. The variety of Bronze Age ship settings on the island of Gotland.
2005). They can also be compared with the small wooden cult houses known
at ceremonial sites of the same date (Victor 2001 and 2002).
Ship settings are frequently associated with round cairns. The circular
monuments are very common and come in a variety of sizes; smaller rings
of boulders also appear during the Bronze Age and Iron Age. They present
more of a problem, for they were occasionally buried beneath later monu-
ments; in other cases they may have delimited those structures. Like the
rectilinear monuments, some were platforms rather than cairns, and in a
few cases they were constructed around a prominent boulder. Other monu-
ments incorporate several concentric rings of stones, not unlike motifs found
in the rock carvings. In most cases these circles were built in sequence,
but the cumulative design was occasionally visible in the fabric of the com-
pleted monument. Other rings of boulders are divided into segments in an
arrangement that resembles the ring cross pecked on the decorated outcrops
(Hyenstrand 1969). Little is known about such features. The oldest dates from
the Early Bronze Age, but, like the latest of the petroglyphs, similar structures
may have been used during the Late Bronze Age and Iron Age. Some of the
circular stone settings were still being built as late as AD 500.
O R I G I N S AN D W I D E R C ON N E C TI O N S
Compared with metalwork and rock carvings, these monuments are not well
dated. Individual examples are associated with diagnostic artefacts, but in the
absence of large scale excavation there is little to establish the lifespan of the
cemeteries of which they form a part. All too often these structures must be
attributed to particular phases according to their surface appearance. In the
circumstances it is best to assign them to an extended period that combines
the Bronze Age and the Early Iron Age. It seems possible that Scandinavian
rock art was used for an equally long time.
Rock carvings and decorated metalwork incorporated ideas that were
introduced from other areas. That is less likely in the case of stone settings.
Each of the separate elements may have had a more local source.
The stone ship settings are associated with cremation burials, but are the
direct successors of smaller structures buried beneath Early Bronze Age
barrows and cairns. They are not especially common, but monuments of
this kind are recorded from a number of sites in Denmark (Artelius 1996). In
the west of Sweden and Norway the use of such features for burials continued
into the Late Bronze Age (Skoglund 2005), but in other areas it ran in parallel
with the creation of freestanding monuments. The link between boats and the
dead is of even greater antiquity, and during the Mesolithic and Neolithic
periods there are cases in which human bodies were buried in actual or model
vessels (Skaarup 1995). There are even underwater burials associated with
Mesolithic canoes (Skaarup and Grn 2004: 3640).
The new development in the Late Bronze Age was the construction of ship
settings which were no longer covered by a cairn. Often they were displayed as
part of a larger cemetery. The same is true of the stone settings that resemble a
domestic building. During the Early Bronze Age, wooden houses were cov-
ered by burial mounds in Denmark and occasionally in Sweden. The layout of
the monument was obviously inXuenced by that of the older structure
(Svanberg 2005). In the Late Bronze Age, however, such buildings provided
the prototype for the features described as cult houses (Victor 2001 and
2002). They were rubble enclosures of the same size as dwellings in the
settlements, but do not appear to have been roofed. Most examples lacked
an entrance, and their orientations diVered signiWcantly from those of do-
mestic buildings. They are mainly associated with evidence of Wres, metal-
working and cremation burials. Outside one example in Denmark there was a
row of decorated slabs (Kaul 1987). Smaller wooden structures may have been
used in similar ways and could have been the prototypes for the rectangular
platforms that are often found with ship settings. It seems as if features that
had originally been concealed from view became important elements of Late
Bronze Age and Early Iron Age cemeteries.
The circular monuments can also be associated with ship settings, and there
are even examples in south-west Norway in which such vessels seem to travel
through a gap in the kerb (Nordenborg Myhre 2004: 216). The closest equiva-
lents for these cairns and platforms are known in other media. Either they
appear in rock carvings, where they are commonly interpreted as sun symbols,
or similar designs are depicted on Bronze Age metalwork. Although Kaul (1998)
identiWes the circular devices on bronze razors as drawings of the sun, another
comparison is with more elaborate artefacts studied by Randsborg and Chris-
tensen (2006: 5993). Like Kaul, Randsborg interprets the concentric circles as
solar imagery. It may be that the rings of boulders in Bronze Age and Iron Age
cemeteries expressed the same relationship between the dead and the sun.
FROM IMAGES TO AUDIENCES
So far this account has emphasized the features that were shared between
images in three diVerent media. The commonest designs on the decorated
metalwork were drawings of ships and the sun. They are among the compara-
tively few elements portrayed by the Bronze Age stone settings. Their distri-
butions overlap, and among the artefacts associated with these monuments
there are a small number of razors. Ship settings and rock carvings are rarely
found together, but again they share certain elements. Boats Wgure promin-
ently among the petroglyphs, and circular symbols appear on many of the
same sites. These three media might have been treated as local manifestations
of the same ideas, so that the stone settings on Gotland might be viewed as the
regional equivalent of the rock carvings. The same could be true on the coast of
south-east Sweden. In Sonja Wigrens study of Sodermanland, further to the
north, the same features have mutually exclusive distributions (Wigren 1987).
That overlooks an important factor. The designs may illustrate similar ideas,
but they cannot have been directed to exactly the same audiences. The images
on the decorated metalwork were extremely small, as were most of the artefacts
themselves. By contrast, the carved panels could be very extensive, although
the individual motifs varied considerably in size (Burenhult 1973; Coles 2000
and 2005). Many of the components were displayed in miniature, but the most
impressive human Wgures in Bohuslan were larger, and were often on higher
ground than the others (Ling 2008: 146). Similarly, the footprints and foot
soles depicted on the decorated outcrops may have been life-size (Brox Nilsen
2005). Many of the carved designs were organized into compositions that
could be seen from a single viewpoint. By contrast, the geoglyphs were often
located within large cemeteries, where it would be necessary to move between
the separate monuments in order to inspect them. It seems likely that the ship
settings depicted real vessels. They probably follow the actual dimensions of
these boats, and the same may be true of the stone cult houses which
apparently represented buildings. Goldhahn (2007) has argued that they
were used by ritual specialists and may have been associated with beliefs
about the ancestors. The rectangular platforms that are often found with
stone ships were conceived on a far smaller scale, but the circular stone settings
come in a variety of sizes. The same is true of their closest equivalents among
the petroglyphs and the decorated metalwork.
These diVerences of scale have important implications for the ways in which
the images could be viewed. The designs on the decorated metalwork are very
small indeed. They could only be recognized at close quarters and probably by
one person at a time. Although decorated razors were commonly associated
with the dead, it is most unlikely that anyone could have construed these
drawings while the body was displayed during a funeral. Since the razors show
signs of wear, it seems possible that the designs had been addressed to the dead
person at an earlier stage in his or her career. Kaul suggests that that they
referred to a mythology that was taught to particular people during the rites of
passage (1998: 1547). That is entirely plausible, although it no longer seems
likely that such knowledge was restricted to young men (Thedeen 2003).
Perhaps the drawings on these objects were small in order to protect them
from scrutiny. In a sense they codiWed secret knowledge. That could be one
reason why these artefacts were taken out of circulation when someone died.
Kaul also suggests that the rock carvings expressed the public aspect of the
same beliefs. These locations were readily accessible, although the more complex
sites seem to have been distanced from the settlements of the same period
(Nilsson 2005). In contrast to many of the decorated surfaces discussed in
Chapter 5, these images were created in places which were easy to Wnd and
which could normally accommodate a large audience. At the same time, the
designs might be divided into a series of separate panels, so that it would have
been necessary to move around them in order to see all the pictures (Frontis-
piece). It raises the possibility that they acted together as a narrative that had to be
followed in sequence. The drawings were normally arranged along a horizontal
axis in relation to a viewer standing at the edge of the decorated surface. Recent
Weldwork has established that ceremonies had been conducted on some of these
sites. That could account for the Wnds of pottery and burnt stones, and even
for the identiWcation of walls or platforms in front of the rock face (Kaul 2006a).
In Bohuslan they are most common with the simpler carvings (Bengtsson 2004;
Ling 2008: 6). This evidence will be discussed in detail in Chapter 8.
Although Kaul suggests that the carved rocks were employed in public
ceremony, it is important to remember that many of the decorated surfaces
built up over a considerable period of time: in some cases up to a thousand
years. Only a few motifs might have been carved on any one occasion. They
would soon fade from view unless the older designs were painteda practice
for which there is currently no evidence. Otherwise that process could only be
arrested if the designs were recut. That may have happened with the major
panels at Himmelstalund (Hauptmann Wahlgren 2002), and in south-west
Norway it seems as if carvings of ships may even have been renewed in a more
up to date style (Nordenborg Myhre 2004: chapter 6). The problem is that such
details have not been recorded until recently, and in older records of Scandi-
navian rock art it is hard to tell the motifs that are boldly carved and may have
been maintained for a long time from images that were more tentative or could
have been used over a shorter period (Coles 2003a). The modern practice of
painting the designs in order to display them to the public is misleading as it
treats all of them in the same way. In fact it is an open question whether the
people who visited these places in the Bronze Age attempted to trace the
outlines of drawings that had been made in the past, or whether the newest
motifs were the only ones with much signiWcance. If the viewers had shown a
concern with drawings that were becoming obscured, their visits would have
provided an opportunity for tracing the histories of the people who had made
them. That is suggested by the fact that carvings were made on the same rocks
long after the sea had retreated (Ling 2008). On the other hand, the fact that
some of the pictures were superimposed could equally suggest that those who
formed the new designs were rejecting the past.
The comparatively rare stone settings raise yet another possibility. Like the
rock carvings, they present the public face of some of the beliefs recorded on
the decorated metalwork. At the same time, these monuments had a perman-
ence that was not necessarily shared with the decorated outcrops. Most of the
geoglyphs formed part of cemeteries that had been established before the Late
Bronze Age. Moreover, the use of these sites often continued into the Iron
Age. The positions of successive monuments acknowledged one another, so
that these were places where histories were put on display. It was only by
moving between the diVerent structures and comprehending the relationships
between them that their full signiWcance could be appreciated. That contrasts
with the secret knowledge expressed by the designs hidden on the decorated
metalwork, and, perhaps, with the fading of the narratives recorded in rock
art. Yet all three media had their basis in the same beliefs. The myths that they
expressed are considered in Chapter 7.
7
Crossing the Water
LINES OF ENQUIRY
There are several ways of interpreting the Bronze Age images of Southern
Scandinavia, but they lead to very diVerent conclusions from one another. It is
essential to know their strengths and weaknesses, since the nature of those
designs has obvious implications for the circumstances in which the pictures
were made.
Two of these approaches draw on literary evidence from other periods or
areas. The Wrst treats the images as reXections of Indo-European mythology,
evidenced by written sources from regions as far away as India. Thus beliefs
concerning the special importance of Wre in Scandinavia have been recon-
structed by reference to the Rig Veda (KaliV 2007); and the unusual pairs of
human Wgures depicted on Bronze Age metalwork are explained by the
institution of the Twin Rulers (Kristiansen and Larsson 2005: 27182). The
separate pictures in the rock art of western Sweden have even been identiWed
with scenes in Indo-European mythology (Fredell 2003a).
There are serious problems with this approach. The chronology of these
separate elements is controversial, yet the analysis proceeds on the basis that
there was some kind of Indo-European horizon that allows researchers to
combine elements from diVerent regions and to treat them on equal terms.
No doubt it provides a useful source of ideas, but there is a danger that this
approach will emphasize the similarities between past communities rather
than the contrasts indicated by archaeological evidence. Given the chrono-
logical problems that beset historical linguistics, it is hard to see how both
kinds of study can be brought into alignment.
In the same way, the Northern European evidence has been interpreted by
comparison with later literary sources. Although the sagas were written down
in Iceland during the Christian era, it is clear that they relate to an earlier
phase and often describe events that had happened in Scandinavia. They
usually refer to the pagan period and provide the principal source of infor-
mation about Old Norse religion. Like Indo-European myths, they have been
used to interpret the visual images of the Bronze Age. At Wrst sight this is
Crossing the Water 151
anachronistic, as the texts were collected almost two thousand years after the
designs were made, but at one time there was a historical justiWcation for this
procedure (Mandt 1995). Until prehistoric chronology was better under-
stood, the drawings of boats were identiWed as Viking warships. For a while
it seemed as if scholars were comparing features that were contemporary with
one another.
The problems posed by this method are evident from The Chariot of the
Sun, an inXuential book by two British authors, Peter Gelling and Hilda Ellis
Davidson (1969). It is divided into two parts. Gelling wrote the Wrst section: a
disciplined analysis of the visual culture of the Bronze Age, much of which is
still valid today. He makes little reference to later literary sources and, where
he does oVer wider comparisons, they are usually with Central and Southern
Europe. Davidson summarizes the main components of Late Iron Age art and
their interpretation in relation to literary evidence. Like Gelling, she makes
few comparisons with material of other periods. It seems as if two unrelated
studies have been printed end to end. The reader is left with the impression
that Davidson feels that comparisons between these sources are not particu-
larly useful. Gelling is even more circumspect. If wider relationships are to be
considered, they are with societies in the Wrst millennium BC. There is no
meeting of minds between these writers, or between the traditions of schol-
arship they represent. It is obvious that direct comparisons of this kind have
not fulWlled their promise. More recent studies have recognized that Old
Norse religion was a hybrid of ancient beliefs and newer elements that may
have developed during the Viking Age (Andren, Jennbert, and Raudvere
2006).
In the circumstances it is better to begin by interpreting the images using
archaeological sources. Such research has led in a diVerent direction. Two of
the most widely quoted interpretations are based on metalwork and rock
carvings. The Wrst emphasizes the relationship between some of these draw-
ings and the dead. Ship settings are found in cemeteries, and decorated razors
in graves. Related imagery is recorded at a number of funerary monuments.
Thus some of the most distinctive carvings are on cists, and other decorated
panels are associated with burial mounds. Nearly all the key images of the
Scandinavian Bronze Age occur in these specialized contexts, including foot-
prints, ring crosses, cup marks, and boats (Kaul 2004: chapter 6; Figenschou
Simonsen, and Vogt 2005).
An alternative is to emphasize the importance of fertility (Almgren 1927).
The most obvious visual evidence is provided by drawings of phallic males
among the rock carvings in the west of Sweden, but there are also scenes
of cultivation and domesticated livestock. Sometimes these elements are
combined, as in the drawings of naked ploughmen in Bohuslan, or in rock
carvings which seem to portray sexual intercourse between people and ani-
mals. Another picture has been identiWed as the cosmic wedding and
features a human couple (Johnsen 2005). Prehistorians who postulate a
fertility cult also consider depictions of the sun.
That provides the starting point of Ships on Bronzes (Kaul 1998). It
contrasts with some of the approaches mentioned earlier because it is far
more sensitive to the details of the artefacts themselves. Kauls starting point is
the Early Bronze Age Sun Chariot from Trundholm which gave Gellings and
Davidsons book its name (Figure 55). The vehicle is drawn by a horse and
carries a decorated disc. One surface is gilded and reXects the light, but the
other is dull. It has always been interpreted as an image of the sun. Perhaps its
diVerent faces show the sun during the day, when it provides a source of light,
and during the night, when it disappears from view. Kauls achievement is to
identify the same principle among the decorated razors and other artefacts,
most of which date from the Late Bronze Age. They feature four main
designsships, the sun, Wshes, and snakeswhich are combined in quite
speciWc ways.
His analysis depends on a simple observation. In the Northern Hemisphere
the sun can be observed crossing the sky from the left where it rises, to the
Figure 55. The Trundholm Sun Chariot.

right where it sets. For people who lacked a notion of scientiWc astronomy,
that would have posed a problem. If the sun had moved across the sky during
the course of the day, how did it return to its original position to repeat its
journey the next morning? In many parts of Northern Europe the sun appears
to emerge from the sea and to sink into the water at dusk. Was it possible that
during the period of darkness it travelled beneath the ocean to break the
surface at dawn? That contrast between day and night is illustrated by the two
faces of the Trundholm disc. Kaul suggests that the same narrative is illus-
trated by other kinds of metalwork.
The Trundholm disc is mounted on a wheeled vehicle, but on many of the
artefacts studied by Kaul a circular image is conveyed by a ship. Most of these
vessels are depicted in suYcient detail for the viewer to work out the direction
in which they are travelling. Some of them carry the sun from left to right, so
they should record its passage during the day. Like the Trundholm disc, these
vessels are accompanied by horses. Where the ships bear the sun from right to
left, they have diVerent associations, and in this case they are often found with
Wshes or snakes. These symbols would be especially appropriate if the journey
took place underwater. The night ship is carried through the hours of
darkness between the sunset and the sunrise. The Wsh is an ideal companion
on this voyage, for it passes between rivers and the sea. Perhaps the snake
identiWed by Kaul is actually an eel, for eels are common in Denmark and
travel between sea and land (cf. Berntsson 2005: Wg. 33) The decorated
metalwork would have summarized the movement of the sun through the
sky during the day, and its passage below the surface at night. Kauls analysis is
meticulous and well documented, and his interpretation is widely accepted
(Figure 56).
Further connections are worth mentioning here. Some of the decorated
artefacts take the form of a ship, and a number of them even have a horses
head on the prow. This recalls the role of the horse that draws the Sun Disc. At
the same time, the wheels carrying that vehicle have four spokes. The same
motif occurs in isolation in Southern Scandinavian rock art and is usually
described as a ring cross, or wheel cross. There is linguistic evidence from
many regions that connects wheels with the sun (West 2007: 2013).
There are other cases in which the ships depicted on Late Bronze Age
metalwork are embellished with birds heads. On one level, this is a reference
to the visual images of the UrnWeld Culture (Kossack 1954). On another, it
contributes to Kauls interpretation because, like eels, birds move between
land and sea. In this case they are also linked with the sun because they Xy
through the air.
Figure 56. Outline of the solar cosmology postulated by Kaul (1998).
F RO M M E TA LWOR K TO S TO N E
Were the same conventions followed in the rock carvings of South Scandinavia?
The scheme identiWed by Kaul on decorated razors and other artefacts has
its closest equivalent on a carved rock found in a Bronze Age cairn at Klinta
on the Baltic island of O land (Burenhult 1973: 66). It is not clear how the
stone had been used, but the decoration is organized in three layers, with a
frieze of cup marks along the edge that encloses most of the decorated surface.
The lowest layer includes two ships, one of them carrying horses and the other
with a human crew. Although the direction of travel is not entirely clear, they
seem to be moving in opposite directions to one another. The middle layer
contains a solitary horse walking from right to left, while the upper part of the
stone features a set of concentric circles and another group of cup marks.
Comparison with Kauls scheme suggests an interpretation (Figure 57).
There are just two drawings of boats. The lower one appears to be moving
from left to right. The other vessel travels in the opposite direction and is
shown with its crew. It seems possible that in fact the drawing depicts a single
vessel crossing the decorated surface and coming back again. The same
argument applies to the drawings of animals. As Kauls interpretation would
Figure 57. An interpretation of the decorated stone from a burial monument at

land.
Klinta, O
suggest, the day ship at the bottom of the panel is accompanied by horses.
Like the boat, one of them changes direction and returns towards its original
point of departure. It is overlooked by what is surely the sun. The left-hand
edge of the stone is embellished with cup marks; if the decoration conformed
to the same scheme as the decorated bronzes, it would be associated with the
day. Similarly, the right side, which was left undecorated, would be connected
with the night. The panel is rather like a clock face in which boats and horses
are shown as they pass through a twenty-four hour cycle. This is not the only
way of interpreting the design, but its similarity to the decorated razors is very
striking indeed.
Many of the same elements can be identiWed on a small rock outcrop at
Borgen in south-west Norway (Marstrander 1963: pl. 24; Coles 2005: Wg. 250).
In this case there seem to be four sun symbols on the stone. The more
complex examples (two cup marks ringed by concentric circles) are higher
up the rock than the othersa wheel cross and another cross which is not
enclosed. A group of carved ships is shown travelling from left to right across
the decorated surface. It includes both the large circular motifs and a solitary
animal which could be a horse. These are day ships in Kauls terminology. By
contrast, the two crosses are associated with vessels travelling from right to
left; the edges of the decorated panel include further examples. In this case the
drawings of the sun are in two diVerent styles, each of which is associated with
vessels sailing in one direction. The simple scheme identiWed on the Danish
metalwork is no longer apparent, yet the decorated surface seems to be
formed out of similar components (Figure 58).
The same is true at a much larger scale. There is an important distinction
between the images on the decorated metalwork and those in the open air.
The drawings on bronze razors and other artefacts are not only small, they are
Figure 58. An interpretation of the designs on the decorated outcrop at Borgen,

Norway.
entirely two-dimensional. Many of the petroglyphs in Southern Scandinavia

are located on prominent boulders, on outcrops, or on sheets of rock that
slope down towards a former shoreline. The gradient can vary, and so can the
orientation of the decorated surface, but it is important to appreciate that
these are three-dimensional structures. This is recognized by the best modern
surveys, and it is unfortunate that so few drawings published in the past
include this information.
T H E H O R I ZO N TA L A N D T H E V E RT I C A L :
T WO AX E S I N S C A N D I NAVI A N RO C K A RT
The form of the rock contributes to the organization of the carvings. In the
Swedish regions of Bohuslan and Uppland where the images are recorded in
detail (Coles 2000 and 2005), they are probably organized in relation to two
distinct axes. The Wrst was brieXy described in Chapter 6: many of the drawings
extend along the contours of the stone. It suggests that the viewer stood at the
lower limit of the decorated panels. The second axis extends at right angles to
these designs and normally runs up and down the sloping surface of the outcrop.
If the drawings of ships observe the horizontal axis, the vertical axis is
represented by less common motifs: by wheeled vehicles (normally drawn by
horses), and by footprints of various kinds (Bradley 2006).
The horizontal axis features many boats. In a sense this visual device makes
the drawings look more realistic, for the surface of the water itself appears to
be level. By drawing the vessels on a single plane, the people who carved them
gave the impression that the ships were crossing the sea together (Bradley
2000: 141). There is more variety in these scenes than is commonly recog-
nized. In some panels the boats are of diVerent sizes from one another; they
also vary in the amount of detail provided, and in the depths to which the
drawings had been pecked into the surface of the rock. Some motifs are quite
ephemeral, but others are much bolder and could have been renewed many
times. A number of the vessels have crews, but others are quite empty. Kauls
research on the decorated metalwork has drawn attention to the directions in
which they are travelling. Now this feature assumes a new signiWcance.
In a few instances the drawings of ships follow certain conventions (Bradley
2006). The most important resemble the rules of perspective. Some vessels are
shown in detail, as if they were close to the viewer. Their outlines are boldly
carved; they can be larger than their counterparts elsewhere on the same
surface; and they are normally shown with their crews. There are other cases
in which the opposite happens. The boats are rather smaller, they are less
deeply cut, and sometimes their outlines are left incomplete. In extreme cases,
such vessels are represented by faint curving lines that seem to represent the
hull; usually, there is no one on board. These visual devices could be meant to
draw attention to certain carvings rather than others, but they also suggest
that the ships are moving away from the viewer. The vessels recede into the
distance until the details of their structure are lost (Figure 59). These designs
might have been suggested by watching craft setting out to sea, but in this case
they travel across the panel until they disappear.
Just as the boats move away from the viewer, they can also approach from a
distance. Here the same visual devices are reversed. Vessels may be found at
the limits of the decorated surface, apparently making their way towards its
centre. As they do so, they increase in size and deWnition. Again it suggests
that the voyage commenced beyond the limits of the panel.
It is rare for the largest panels of rock art to show only one axis of
movement. More often ships travel in two directions. Some, like Kauls day
ships, move from left to right; others pursue the opposite course. Borgen
oVers a simple illustration of this pattern, but it can also be found in more
Figure 59. The movement of ships as depicted in Bronze Age rock art. In (a) the
vessels enter the panel from the left; in (b) and (c) they leave it, travelling towards the
right-hand edge of the decorated surface.
extensive compositions. The obvious explanation for these images is that they
depict only one section of a longer voyage. Perhaps these conventions are
meant to suggest that the vessels are moving in both directions, vanishing into
the distance where the carvings cease and occasionally reappearing on the
opposite side of the decorated surface. If some of the boats circumnavigate the
panel (or even the entire rock), only their arrival and departure are recorded.
This idea is necessarily speculative, but it is based on the evidence of the
carvings themselves. The only obvious comparison is with the movement of
ships illustrated by Bronze Age metalwork.
The vertical component of these carvings can be deWned in two ways.
Where the micro-topography of the rock has been recorded, wheeled vehicles
and footprints may be shown climbing or descending the decorated surface.
Where that detailed information is not provided, the frieze of ships provides a
datum. In that case other motifs are oVset from it at about ninety degrees.
The carvings of wheeled vehicles pose fewer problems than those of boats.
They are generally drawn by horses and cut across the contours of the rock
(Figure 60). The bodies of these carts can be represented by circular motifs,
not unlike a drawing of the sun, while the vehicles themselves are carried on
wheels which can be compared with the isolated ring crosses found in
Figure 60. The movement of carts in Scandinavian rock art. Here they are contrasted
with drawings of boats and footprints. The remaining designs on the same surface are
shown in light tone.
Scandinavian rock art. They recall the construction of the Sun Chariot, but
similar designs are also associated with the carvings of ships (Kaul 1998:
1959; Coles 2002). Another point of comparison is that at Trundholm the
disc was drawn by a horse. Horses draw the vehicles depicted in Bronze Age
rock art, and on the decorated metalwork they are also associated with the day
ships that carry the sun through the sky. A similar connection is present in the
petroglyphs where some of the carved ships have a horses head on the prow.
Carvings of footprints are more frequent (Figure 61). They are of two
diVerent kinds; the distinction is based on the presence or absence of shoes.
These motifs pose many problems of interpretation, for they are not related to
the carvings of men and women in the same panels. In some cases the carved
footprints might indicate paths leading up or down the rock, although these
Figure 61. The orientation of lines of footprints in Scandinavian rock art. Here they
are contrasted with drawings of boats. The remaining designs on the same surface are
shown in light tone.
drawings are usually arranged in pairs. It is not clear whether people had
walked across the decorated surface or whether they stood in single Wle, as if
they were in a queue. If the footprints do represent trails, those paths may be
continuous or incomplete (Bradley 2006).
In any case it is not obvious where the paths begin, or even where they end.
There are certainly examples in which Wles of carved footprints lead towards
bogs or pools, just as there are occasional sites where they appear to emerge
from Bronze Age cairns: a connection which is emphasized by similar designs
inside the cists in south-west Norway (Jellestad Syvertsen 2002). In other
instances lines of footprints may lead towards the highest point on the rock.
This is where many of the cup marks can be found. As John Coles has
observed, they face directly into the sky (2000: 35). Although it is too simple
to claim them as drawings of the stars, the association is important. These
features are occasionally associated with wheel crosses which seem to repre-
sent the sun. Just as common are isolated pairs of footprints which suggest the
presence of someone standing on the decorated outcrop. These positions
often command extensive views.
There may be a connection between the carvings of feet and those of
vehicles. For the most part the pairs of foot soles are shown a short distance
apart, but sometimes they are run together to form a single design. Each half
represents the outline of a shoe and the strap by which it was held in place,
but, when this happens, the overall design is diYcult to distinguish from the
ring crosses that are interpreted as drawings of the sun (Figure 62). It is
unlikely that it came about by chance. Perhaps the idea of moving up and
down the decorated rock recalled the motion of the sun as it climbed the sky
in the morning and descended in the late afternoon.
To sum up, while it is easy to think of the rock carvings as a series of static
components rather like prehistoric artefacts, some of the more elaborate
panels were organized around the idea of movement. The ships were not
presented like a display of trophies; they were shown in motion, travelling
towards the viewer or receding into the distance. Their voyages may have
extended beyond the limits of the panel, or even beyond those of the rock.
Like the vessels shown on Bronze Age metalwork, they may have illustrated a
series of fundamental beliefs, although fewer examples appear to be carrying
the sun. That may not be true of the carts which, like the Trundholm chariot,
are drawn by horses. In some cases the structure of the vehicle resembles a
drawing of the sun. More often, the vehicles are supported on wheel crosses.
They are taken up and down the decorated outcrops in the same way as the
sun rises and sets in the sky. Their movement across the decorated surface
follows a similar course to the footprints which have always been diYcult to
explain. Now it appears that some of the pairs of foot soles were brought
Figure 62. The overlap between drawings of ring crosses, wheels, and pairs of
footprints in South Scandinavian rock art.
together to create a design that could have been understood as another

reference to the sun. The movement of these diVerent elements across the
stone and beyond it shares certain elements with the cosmology identiWed by
Kaul (1998 and 2004).
THE SEA, THE SKY, A ND THE L AND
One fundamental contrast between the two media has not been considered so
far. The decorated bronzes are interpreted in terms of a narrative that accounts
for the passage of the sun through the sky during the day and its journey under
the sea at night. The common element is that it is carried by a boat, but that
vessel is accompanied through the air by a horse and through the water by a
Wsh and possibly by an eel. The key transitions occur where the sea meets the
sky and where the sun rises and sets. The horse may be a domesticated
animalalbeit one with a special signiWcance during later prehistory (Ullen
1996)but at no stage does the land play any part in this cycle.
The land is what distinguishes the decorated metalwork from the rock
carvings of the same period (Bradley 2006). On those sites closely associated
with water the horizontal axis may be dominated by drawings of ships, but the
vertical axis has a very diVerent character. It is represented by various kinds of
footprints and by vehicles drawn by horses. They are directly related to dry
land. The same applies to a whole series of images, not discussed so far, which
feature in the rock carvings but are not present on metal artefacts. They
include human beings (some of whom dominate these scenes), wild animals,
and domesticated livestock. There are also groups of people hunting, Wghting
and farming. They are only the most common elements, but all these Wgures
are securely located on the ground.
The beliefs investigated by Kaul concern the relationship between two
important elements: the sky and the sea. The rock carvings, on the other
hand, record the complex relationship between three diVerent layers: the sea,
the sky, and the land (Figure 63). That is why there are so many diVerences
between these separate media. At the same time, elements of all three may be
represented on some of the largest carved surfaces. The sea is represented
by drawings of boats and occasionally of Wsh; the land accounts for numerous
drawings of people, animals and artefacts; and the sky is surely referenced by
circular designs on the highest part of the decorated surface. Those patterns
can be identiWed at sites in Bohuslan and Uppland (Coles 2000 and 2005),
Figure 63. Contrasts in the imagery associated with decorated metalwork and rock
carvings in South Scandinavia. The designs on portable artefacts concern the rela-
tionship between the sea and the sky. The images associated with rock carvings also
refer to the land.
but they can also extend across a wider area in which certain components
feature in one set of carvings and diVerent elements in another. Thus draw-
ings featuring ships are mainly a feature of the coastal regions, while carts,
wheel crosses, cup marks, and other circular motifs are quite common at
inland sites (cf. Burenhult 1980: Wg. 3). The same is true of footprints. Thus
the scheme that can be identiWed on some of the larger outcrops by the coast
can also extend across the landscape as a whole (Bradley 2006).
The metalwork studied by Kaul illustrates the relationship between the sky
and the sea. The introduction of a third component complicates the situation,
but it may help to explain the special signiWcance of sites located on the
shoreline. Of course this is the ideal position from which to watch the sun
rising out of the sea in the morning or setting there at night, but it is also the
only place where all the elements represented in the rock carvings come into
contact with one another (Figure 64). Chapter 6 suggested that it is why the
seashore plays such a crucial role in Circumpolar ethnography. It seems
possible that it was just as signiWcant in South Scandinavia. In some ways
this idea recalls the interpretation of megalithic tombs discussed in Chapter 3
(Lewis-Williams and Pearce 2005), but in this case a tripartite cosmology is
postulated on the basis of the images and their siting rather than the workings
Figure 64. The relationship between the sea, the land, and the sky, emphasizing the
movement of the sun, and the location of many of the carved rocks close to the
seashore.
of the nervous system. The same interpretation is proposed by Kaul (2005) in

a recent study of the signiWcance of the wheel cross.
There are other reasons for supposing that the shoreline had a special
signiWcance during prehistory. During the Middle Neolithic period it was
where megalithic tombs had been built in the west of Sweden. They were often
placed very close to the sea, by the shore or even on small islands (Bradley and
Phillips 2004). Although these areas had an unusually abundant supply of
Wsh, it is possible that coastal resources were less important than they had
been in earlier periods. There is evidence that the people who were buried at
these sites occupied settlements that were located further inland and that they
supported themselves mainly by farming (Sjogren 2003). In that case the
positioning of the cairns may have been a reference to a way of life that had
been followed in the past. Similarly, in the Early Bronze Age the coastal
barrows and cairns discussed by Kristiansen (1987) were sometimes located
on oVshore islands which could not have sustained a resident population.
They can be diYcult to identify from a vessel sailing on the water, so it seems
unlikely that they were intended as aids to navigation. In the north of Sweden,
Baudous work has shown how similar monuments were close to the waters
edge. Again it suggests that the coastal margin enjoyed a special signiWcance
(Baudou 1968). Its importance was already established by the period when
most of the decorated metalwork was used, and cannot be explained entirely
in functional terms.
At the same time, the special importance of the shoreline could be
expressed in other ways. One of the problems of interpreting Southern
Scandinavian rock art is the seemingly chaotic organization of the motifs
on certain of the decorated surfaces. Although there are Xeets of boats,
wheeled vehicles, and trails of footprints, the carvings feature numerous
drawings of people and animals which are interspersed with the other images
(Frontispiece). At Wrst sight this undermines any notion that the sea was
distinguished from the land, for humans and their livestock are depicted
alongside many of the boats. One explanation is that the carvings are really
palimpsests and that not all of them were contemporary with one another;
when the ships were pictured, for example, the other motifs may have faded
from view. It is true that the Late Bronze Age carvings contain a rather wider
range of motifs, but there is another way of reading these scenes which does
not imply a complex sequence. Perhaps the drawings of ships and of creatures
that live on land were mixed together in order to emphasize the importance of
the shoreline itself, for it is the only place where these all separate elements
would have been found (Bradley 2006). If so, panels that appear entirely
unstructured today may originally have possessed a special signiWcance.
The same idea could be expressed by the stone settings. Here two rather
diVerent patterns are important. There are the large cult houses studied by
Helena Victor (2001 and 2002). They were Wrst built during the Early Bronze
Age, but their history extends into the following period. The form of these
buildings referred to that of the domestic house, but a number of more
impressive examples are paired with exceptionally large barrows and cairns
located by the sea. Typical examples of such pairings are the famous site at
Kivik and the enormous mound at Hagahogen. In southern Sweden the
distribution of cult houses extends from the Malar valley near to Stockholm
as far as Goteborg on the west coast. Rock carvings occur in the same areas,
but not on the same sites. These places may have been the power centres of
local elites whose main contacts with one another would have been by sea. At
the same time, the association between rectangular ceremonial buildings,
circular cairns and the coast referred to more arcane beliefs.
The cairns with which the larger cult houses are associated present a special
problem. On one level they form part of the series of coastal monuments
identiWed by Kristiansen, but occasionally they make a more speciWc refer-
ence. The decorated cist at Kivik includes drawings of ships, horses, and ring
crosses (Randsborg 1993), all of them images that might be linked to the solar
cosmology postulated by Kaul. A substantial round barrow at Sagaholm was
located near an inlet of Lake Vattern. It had a decorated kerb which also
featured drawings of boats and horses, but in this case there was no picture of
the sun. It would have been necessary to move around the mound in order to
view these designs, and Joakim Goldhahn (1999) suggests that in this case the
circular array of decorated kerbstones supplies the missing element. Perhaps
the entire monument was understood as a solar symbol. It is an interpretation
that might be extended to other sites.
The same relationship is indicated by a series of smaller structures whose
chronology appears to be limited to the Late Bronze Age and perhaps the
Early Iron Age. Most were built of stone, but they also include rectangular cult
houses made of wood. A series of cemeteries located on or near to the coast
combine three diVerent elements (Widholm 1998). There are the ship settings
that can be associated with cremation burials, but there are also square or
rectangular platforms whose form echoes those of ceremonial structures and
also of domestic buildings. Each is associated with circular stone settings. Two
arrangements are common at these sites. There are well preserved ship
settings where it is possible to decide the direction in which the boat is
moving. Some of these are aligned on the circular cairns, as if an actual vessel
was travelling into a tomb. Others appear to emerge from circular monu-
ments. There are also cases in which these structures are apparently attached
Figure 65. The relationship between ship settings (shaded) and round and rect-
angular cairns or platforms in Bronze Age cemeteries in Scandinavia.
to the ship in a way that recalls the sun symbols engraved on Bronze Age
metalwork (Figure 65).
The ship settings can also be paired with rectangular monuments whose
closest parallels are in domestic architecture (Widholm and Regnell 2001;
Artursson 2005). They may abut one another, or they can be separated by
small circular structures. The organization of these sites seems to be based on
the complementary relationship between a seagoing vessel and a building
constructed on land. The combination of both these elements provides a
striking image of the seashore. It seems as if coastlinesboth real or meta-
phoricalplayed a major part in the rock carvings of Bronze Age Scandi-
navia; perhaps the same was true in some of the cemeteries. In that case it is
noticeable that images in these two media are rarely found together. Their
distributions are almost mutually exclusive, as if each represented a diVerent
way of expressing the same ideas.
Again it appears that common concerns may link the visual images that
were created in separate parts of Scandinavia. The decorated metalwork,
whose distribution focuses on Denmark and the southernmost part of
Sweden, emphasizes the complex relationship between ships, the sun, and
the sea. The rock carvings of the same period, the largest examples of which
tend to be further to the north, illustrate a similar concern with boats and
water. Sometimes they include motifs that have been identiWed with the sun.
Most of the petroglyphs with complex images of ships are within sight of the
sea, and a number of them were probably by the waters edge (Ling 2008). It
seems likely that the combination of motifs associated with these sites was
intended to evoke the distinctive character of the shoreline. The same con-
nection is illustrated by a small number of stone settings or geoglyphs. They
combine circular designs that may have been meant to represent the sun with
images of ships and rectangular buildings. The latter are sometimes juxta-
posed, as if to emphasize the importance of the seashore.
THREE EXAMPLES
This chapter concludes by considering three sites in greater detail. All are
located in Sweden: Snackedal, Himmelstalund, and Hogsbyn. The cemetery at
Snackedal contains numerous stone settings, one of them associated with a
bronze razor, but there are no carved rocks in the vicinity. The site at
Himmelstalund is an important decorated outcrop, but in this case the
nearest cairns are some distance away. The remarkable complex at Hogsbyn,
on the other hand, includes both these components and constitutes a mini-
ature landscape in its own right.
Snackedal is a cemetery of over thirty Bronze Age monuments: the largest and
most distinctive of a series of structures overlooking the margins of a bog a
kilometre from a former inlet of the Baltic (Bradley and Widholm 2007). It is
distinguished from most of the other monuments in the vicinity because it
includes a number of square or rectangular stone settings, and seven other
structures in the form of a ship; two more stone ships are recorded beyond the
limits of the site. In addition to these specialized structures, there are consider-
able round cairns, and a series of smaller circular monuments (Figure 66).
The cemetery has two main components. The earliest feature appears to be a
line of four large cairns, each of them located on the highest available ground.
The biggest was in the middle of the site. There was a similar monument beside
it. In a subsequent phase, four small groups of stone settings were constructed
within the cemetery, two of them in relation to the existing cairns at its centre,
and one beside each of the others. An enormous ship setting was also built. It is
one of the longest in Scandinavia and divided the site in half. It ran up to the
base of the largest cairn.
Figure 66. General view of the Bronze Age cemetery at Snackedal, Sweden, with
two rectangular stone settings in the foreground.
Every group of monuments includes circular structures, but the small ship
settings are all located in the northern part of the cemetery, and all but one of
the rectilinear monuments are in the other half. If their wider references have
been interpreted correctly, the site is subdivided between one section in which
the structures relate to the land and perhaps to the domestic world, and
another which refers directly to boats and the sea (Figure 67).
The ship settings have further implications. Almost all of them are aligned
on the large round cairns which appear to be the oldest structures on the site,
but they do not run right up to them, nor do they approach their centres
rather than their Xanks. One way of explaining this observation is to suggest
that the vessels were attached to these monuments in the same way as sun
symbols are connected to ships in the rock carvings. At the same time, two of
the stone ships at Snackedal are well enough preserved to establish the
direction of movement. They seem to be paired with one another, yet they
are obviously travelling in opposite directions. In Kauls terminology, the
smaller structure would be a day ship, and the larger vessel a night ship.
Although their alignments diVer by about thirty degrees, both these ship
settings are orientated approximately eastwest. That contrasts with the
northsouth alignment of all the remaining vessels, as well as two isolated
Figure 67. The development of the Bronze Age cemetery at Snackedal, Sweden. The
upper plan shows the four cairns attributed to the earliest phase of activity. The lower
plan shows four clusters of smaller (and later) monuments, each focusing on the
position of one of the older cairns. It suggests that the cemetery was divided between
one group of stone settings in the form of ships, and another in the form of domestic
buildings.
examples outside the cemetery itself. In most cases it is impossible to distin-

guish the prow from the stern, but in one instance it is clear that a stone ship
is departing from the site. The boats that followed a rough eastwest orien-
tation could have been aligned on the position of the summer sun as it
travelled above the local horizon; but the example that was sailing towards
the north was directed into an area where the sun would never appear.
The second site is the large rock outcrop at Himmelstalund which was
brieXy described in Chapter 6 (Hauptmann Wahlgren 2002). It was not on the
coast but overlooked a river communicating between a major lake and the sea.
The principal carved rock was located in between two sets of rapids. Here
questions of orientation are most important. The river Xows from west to east
towards the Baltic Sea. The outcrop shares the same alignment. It is long and
relatively narrow and has two major groups of carvings on its Xanks, one
facing north and the other south. There are fewer designs along the top of the
stone. There were other rock carvings in the vicinity but they are not con-
sidered here; nor are more isolated panels towards the western limit of the site.
Perhaps unusually, there are diVerences between the designs created at
diVerent levels on the main section of the decorated outcrop. This is most
apparent on its northern Xank. In contrast to some of the patterns considered
earlier, here there is little overlap between marine and terrestrial imagery. The
drawings of boats tend to be located on the lower parts of the decorated
surface, and drawings of animals are generally higher up. It even seems as if
domesticated livestock were closer to the base of the rock than the pictures of
wild species, for along the top of the decorated surface there are the tracks of a
bear. Drawings of weapons can be identiWed in a similar position (Figure 68),
although Katherine Hauptmann Wahlgren suggests that they may have been
among the earliest elements at Himmelstalund. In some respects these images
represent a world in miniature, for the ships cluster around the foot of the
outcrop. Higher up there is more of an emphasis on creatures that live on the
land, but there are also foot soles and a wheel cross.
The main carved surfaces face north and south respectively, but in each case
virtually all the ships are shown sailing down the river to the sea. Those on the
northern side of the rock would receive less illumination from the sun than
their equivalents towards the south. In the summer it would rise to the north-
east and set in the north-west, but for part of the year the decorated surface
would often be in shadow. By contrast, the designs that overlooked the river to
the south would have been illuminated. Although the drawings of vessels show
them travelling downriver, those on the north face of the outcrop are moving
from right to left. In Kauls terminology they should be night ships. On the
same argument those on the opposite face can be interpreted as day ships.
There are signiWcant contrasts between the two groups of vessels. The
largest night ships are towards the base of the outcrop; smaller craft tend
to be higher up the rock face. Most ships are shown with their crews, but this
is less common further up the slope, where some of the vessels are apparently
incomplete. Those on the northern side of the outcrop are associated with sun
symbols, mainly in the form of a wheel cross.
These patterns contrast with the drawings on the south side of the rock.
The day ships are closer together than the night ships. On the whole they are
rather smaller than the other vessels, and there is no clear distinction between
boats with crews and those that are apparently empty; in some cases they may
even be paired with one another. The distribution of the ships overlaps with
that of drawings of wild and domesticated animals. There are also a few cup
marks, but sun symbols are not represented.
In this case it is possible to compare two groups of images. Those on the
north-facing slope share features in common with the night ships identiWed
by Kaul. They would not have faced directly into the sun for part of the year
and are associated with wheel crosses and other solar symbols (Figure 68).
The nature of these vessels seems to have varied with their height above the
Figure 68. The connections between carvings of ships, a weapon, and a possible sun
symbol at Himmelstalund, Sweden.
foot of the outcrop, and there are signs that drawings associated with land
were generally further up the decorated surface than those connected with the
water. Domesticated animals were distinguished from wild species by means
of the same device. The carvings that face south are very diVerent. They are
directly lit by the sun and do not adhere to the same scheme. Here boats with
crews are interspersed with empty vessels, and wild animals with domestic
species. A major contrast is that solar symbols are not represented. These
associations are not like those on the decorated metalwork, but they still
suggest that the diVerences between day and night, and those between light
and shadow, remained a fundamental concern.
The last of these three sites is Hogsbyn where a series of carved rocks is
distributed between an inland lake and an area of higher ground with a
Bronze Age cemetery (Svensson 1985; Tilley 1999: 13373).
The rock carvings extend down the hillside towards the edge of the lake.
Further upslope there is a cemetery which includes the largest cairn in the
region. Another cairn overlooks the waters edge. Its characteristic proWle is
reXected by a small island not far from the shore where some of the carvings
were made; there are carved rocks on other islands in the lake. The Hogsbyn
complex is subject to important seasonal variations. The carved rocks are
covered by snow between November and March, and those by the edge of the
lake are sometimes underwater. This site has been studied by Christopher
Tilley who argues that people would have visited the images in a prescribed
sequence (1999: 15371). He suggests that they followed a path leading
upslope from the shoreline towards the cairns.
If the rock carvings were only visible during the summer months, it is
worth considering the position of the sun at that time of year. It rose in the
north-east, moved south as it climbed the sky and would eventually have been
seen above the lake. After it had crossed the water, it returned to dry land
where it set towards the north-west. It would have moved around the zone of
rock carvings from dawn to dusk before it disappeared from view on the high
ground behind the petroglyphs, to reappear the next morning close to the
position of the cemetery.
The importance of the sun is illustrated by the distribution of Late Bronze
Age images at Hogsbyn. There are two groups of circular motifs at either end
of the zone of rock carvings. This is where the main concentrations of ships
are found. The largest vessels are towards the shore, where most of them are
travelling towards the lake. They are associated with large wheel crosses and
similar devices as if they are carrying the sun. There are other ways in which
the carvings suggest a direction of movement. Most of the ships travel towards
the water, and a few footprints follow the same course from north to south.
The main emphasis seems to be on the movement of the sun between the high
ground and the water.
There are fewer ships travelling away from the lake in the general direction
of the cairns, but this axis does seem to be marked by a larger number of
isolated footprints. More important is a striking pattern identiWed by Tilley.
The human Wgures depicted on the rocks change their character from one end
of the complex to the other. Towards the lake these Wgures are diminutive and
do not display any obvious characteristics. Further upslope they are larger,
Figure 69. An interpretation of the rock art and nearby monuments at Hogsbyn,
Sweden in relation to the movement of the sun around the site in summer. The
diagram summarizes the axes of movement of the carved ships, people, and footprints
in relation to the position of a Bronze Age cemetery and an offshore island with a
strong resemblance to a cairn.
and those towards the northern edge of the site carry weapons and are clearly
male. Tilley is right to describe this as a narrative about becoming human
(1999: 171).
His interpretation works best when it considered in relation to the passage
of the sun around the site (Figure 69). During the summer months it moved
from land to water and then back again. It also connected the sunrise with an
important cemetery, and with an oVshore island that resembled another
cairn. Some of the carvings record a similar passage between land and
water, while others follow a course leading upslope towards the burial ground.
Again that is not unlike the distinctive cycle described by Kaul.
All three examples share certain features in common, but they do little
more than suggest that the diVerent images reveal similar concerns. The solar
cycle may have inXuenced the organization of these designs, but it simply
provides a framework for the remaining elements. It does not exhaust their
signiWcance. There is immense variety, just as there are other components that
have not been considered here. No doubt many diVerent narratives were
embedded within this overall scheme. They may have varied from one region
to another and could have changed over time.
The uses of these places would have been equally diverse. Chapter 8
develops this point by discussing the relationship between the diVerent
images and the people who originally encountered them.
8
The Origin of Fire
T H E H E L I O S OV E RT U R E
In 1903, the Danish composer Carl Nielsen was on holiday in the Mediterra-
nean. While he was staying in Athens, he completed one of his most famous
works, the orchestral overture Helios. Nielsen explained that the music
evoked the sun rising out of the sea and travelling across the sky before it
set. The piece has a special signiWcance more than a century after it was
written, for it is performed on Danish radio to mark the beginning of a new
year. It seems that even now the passage of the sun is an important event.
In one sense Nielsens overture is a celebration of light and warmth. It can
also be understood as part of a more general phenomenon, as Scandinavian
artists and scholars have often been attracted to the cultures of Southern
Europe. Perhaps it is why there are so many Classical archaeologists in the
Nordic countries. It may also help to explain why their prehistorians have
emphasized the links between the Northern Bronze Age and the Mediterra-
nean.
The Helios Overture traces the same process as Bronze Age cosmology.
It portrays the sun as it rises out of the sea, travels across the sky and descends
into the water at dusk. That is a familiar sight in Northern Europe where
it gains an added signiWcance because in many places it can be seen for
a comparatively short time during the winter. The sun is visible for much
longer in the summer months.
The contrast between summer and winter is even more apparent in the
Arctic and plays a signiWcant part in local mythology. The Finnish national
epic, The Kalevala, includes a poem called Fire from heaven which describes
how the land is in darkness because the sun and the moon have been
captured. Fire has been stolen from peoples homes. This is a challenge to
the authority of the most powerful god:
Therefore was night unending,
And for long was utter darkness,
Night in Kalevala for ever. . . .
Likewise in the heavens was darkness . . .
The Origin of Fire 177
Ukko, then, of Gods the highest,
In the air the great Creator,
Now began to feel most strangely,
And he pondered and reXected,
What strange thing the moon had darkened,
How the sun had been obstructed
(Kalevala 47; translation Kirby 1907)
Ukko restores order, using his sword to make Wre. The poem surely reXects
the concerns of people who were aware of the annual cycle, and of their
dependence on the heat and light of the sun. Such beliefs appear to be of
considerable antiquity, and some of the scenes depicted in prehistoric rock
paintings have been interpreted using the oral poems recorded in The Kale-
vala (Lahelma 2008) The Helios Overture has a Finnish counterpart, for it
happens that Fire from heaven was set to music by Sibelius only one year
before Nielsen wrote his piece. There is another link with prehistoric archae-
ology as Sibelius was the Wrst person to identify ancient rock art in Finland
(Lahelma 2008: 28).
Sibeliuss cantata The Origin of Fire provides a useful reminder that com-
plex systems of belief often develop out of everyday concerns. Just as the
disappearance of the sun during the northern winter provides the basis for a
narrative involving the gods, its relation to the sky and the sea was apparently
explained by the cosmology recorded on Bronze Age metalwork. In the past,
similar problems may have been presented by the relationship between land
and water, and by the passage of the seasons.
THE COSMOS AND DAILY EXPERIENCE
The visual images of Bronze Age Scandinavia date from a time when the
natural environment was changing rapidly and in unexpected ways. As the
land continued to rise after the Ice Age, the sea gradually retreated. In some
places the process was so rapid that it could be traced from one generation to
another, and there are areas like Bohuslan in the west of Sweden where the
water receded so far that sometimes it was no longer visible from places that
had originally been on the coast (Coles 2005; Ling 2008). The presence of
prehistoric rock carvings bore witness to these changes. They had originally
been located on or near to the waters edge, and that relationship was
recorded by numerous drawings of boats. Now they were some way
inland. Sometimes new images were created closer to the shoreline, but
more often the older designs were renewed at the traditional site, even though
178 Image and Audience in Bronge Age Scandinavia
its connection with the sea was lost. The same applies to the carvings made on
cliVs. Johan Ling has demonstrated that, as the sea level fell, new images were
created lower down the rock (2008: chapter 7). The older carvings acted like a
tidemark, showing how high the water had reached. Harbours, inlets, and
channels gradually silted up, and many places were no longer accessible
by boat.
At the same time conditions changed out at sea. Small oVshore islands
increased in size as submerged rocks broke the surface. In time they developed
into islands in their own right, so that the coastal archipelagos in both the
Baltic and the North Atlantic gradually changed their conWguration. This
happened to a diVerent extent from one region to the next as the land was not
rising at a uniform rate; this process was more pronounced in some areas than
in others, and there are certain regions where any change of level was minimal.
Even so, these developments might have been extremely important, for it was
where the land met the sea that Bronze Age cairns were constructed. Some of
the most conspicuous were built on oVshore islands.
The rocks that were rising from the sea had been sculpted by glaciers long
before they were submerged. As a result, they often have rounded proWles. That
is important, for they bear a striking resemblance to Bronze Age monuments
of a type that was already associated with islands (Figure 70). Rather than
supposing that land was emerging from the seabed, people might have thought
that cairns were rising out of the water (Nordenborg Myhre 2004: 179). That
would be particularly apparent as ships were taking corpses for burial in the
archipelago.
The appearance of new islands would have been apparent to generations of
sailors as they travelled these waters, and the rocks themselves would have
been more useful as seamarks than many of the monuments that had been
constructed oV the coast. Nevertheless such places could still be associated
with the dead. Chapter 7 argued that the meeting place of land and sea
enjoyed a special signiWcance in Northern prehistory. Now there is another
factor to considerperhaps the emergence of small islands along the east
coast could be compared with the appearance of the sun as it rose from the
underworld every morning.
There were more rapid developments, too. Certain experiences would have
posed problems for travellers in these waters, especially if they were engaged
in the long distance voyages postulated by Kristiansen and Larsson (2005). As
mentioned earlier, the contrast between day and night became more pro-
nounced in northern latitudes. The climate was probably similar to that today
(Keith Bennett pers. comm.), so that seasonal variations would be signiWcant.
Large bodies of water could be frozen, and much of the land might have been
buried under snow. Movement was much more diYcult. Sometimes the
Figure 70. A small island in the Stockholm archipelago.
coastline was free from ice because it was warmed by the Gulf Stream, but
there were inland areas which would be almost impassable.
As the temperature increased and the days became longer, profound
changes came over the Northern landscape. They would have presented
their own problems of interpretation. Ice and snow melted, and streams
and rivers Xowed across the countryside. It was then that waterfalls and rapids
had their greatest impact. Knut Helskog (1999) has pointed out that decor-
ated outcrops on the shoreline would be the last to be aVected by snow and
the soonest to reappear. When winter ended, rocks that had been covered over
became accessible again, and small stone-built monuments and petroglyphs
could be clearly identiWed for the Wrst time in months. The colours and
textures of the bedrock would be immediately apparent. For a while these
places were largely free of vegetation. The harsh winters only emphasized
the dramatic contrasts between the seasons, which were still more apparent
as one travelled from south to north. All these changes could be attributed
to the movements of the sun during the course of the year.
In the circumstances it is hardly surprising that Wre became so important in
the ritual life of Bronze Age Scandinavia (KaliV 2007). On one level it was closely
linked to the importance of the sky and the sun; both provided a source of heat
and light, and in the extract from The Kalevala quoted earlier the theft of Wre is
directly linked to the disappearance of the sun and moon. Smoke from Wres
would have risen into the sky, and its heat would have melted the snow and ice
that formed when the sun was weak, or even absent, in the winter. Fire was both
a creative force and a means of transformation. It was used to heat the houses
where people lived and to cook their food, but it could also split stone, change
raw metal into Wnished artefacts, and reduce dead bodies to ash.
In fact sea, sun, sky, and Wre are key components of the Bronze Age
archaeology of Scandinavia. They deserve to be considered in detail before
this account returns to the visual images of the same period.
WATER, SKY, SUN, AND FIRE
In Southern Scandinavia there are cairns on oVshore islands and others on high
ground near the coast, but their distribution extends into the interior (Hyenstrand
Figure 71. The distribution of cairns in part of Angermansland, northern Sweden in

relation to the Bronze Age coastline.
1984). Thus the concentration of sites along the shoreline forms part of a wider
phenomenon. Further to the north, the situation changes. Here the cairns are
conWned to the seaboard and have not have been found in inland areas, even
though those regions are associated with other kinds of monuments (Figure 71;
Baudou 1968). The distinction appears to be a real one.
The distribution of the northernmost cairns has always been considered in
terms of contacts with the south, and what little excavated evidence is
available suggests that they do date from the Bronze Age and Early Iron
Age. They have been connected both with traders visiting these areas from
Southern Scandinavia and with the establishment of agricultural settlements
beside the sea. The evidence for this interpretation is very limited. At the same
time, it is thought that the absence of similar cairns in the interior was
because it was occupied by a diVerent population, who came in contact
with exchange partners on the coast.
There are diYculties with both these arguments (Bolin 1999: 5568). The
northern cairns are not easy to characterize. They do not conform to standard
types like those found further south, and there is structural evidence they had
been used and modiWed at intervals. Moreover, few of these structures are
associated with human remains; animal bones are just as often found on the
sites. In these respects they have a distinctive character of their own. Baudous
Weldwork has demonstrated that they were located very close to the waters
edge (Baudou 1968). In contrast, the cairns in Southern Scandinaviaeven
those near to the seaoccupied more prominent positions in the landscape.
If some of the cairns emphasized the distinction between land and sea,
others were certainly directed towards the sky. Some of the largest monu-
ments on the coast of Southern Scandinavia occupy the highest ground. It
may have made them more visible, but this tendency can even be recognized
within cemeteries like that at Snackedal where diVerences of elevation are
slight. Moreover, there are a number of cases where a large cairn had been
constructed on top of a particularly small hill or outcrop, with the result that
it collapsed (Figure 72). The material for its construction had to be taken to
the site, a stone at a time, and there are sites at which it was necessary to build
a kerb to hold this material in place. Sometimes the kerbstones were obtained
by quarrying around the edge of a monument, which had the eVect of raising
it on a plinth (Bradley and Widholm 2007: 249). In such cases it seems as if
height above the surrounding area was the most important consideration.
Perhaps it was necessary to build these structures in relation to the sky
(Gerdin 1999).
The hilltop siting of cairns is a special feature of the larger monuments,
many of which are attributed to the Early Bronze Age. It is less apparent with
the smaller and more specialized constructions which date from the Late
Figure 72. The siting of the Bronze Age cairn on top of a small rock outcrop near
Gamleby, Sweden.
Bronze Age and Early Iron Age. Some of the same relationships were ex-
pressed in a diVerent way. The juxtaposition of ship settings and rectangular
monuments could have referred to the boundary between the sea and the
land. Similarly, the small circular stone settings could have represented the
sun and the sky. Chapter 7 argued that these structures illustrate similar
themes to the carvings and decorated metalwork.
Another concern was with Wre. At one time it was thought that mounds of
Wre-cracked stones marked the positions of Bronze Age settlements in South
Scandinavia (Jensen 1985). That no longer seems likely. Many occupation
sites have been identiWed during recent Weldwork. They are characterized by
timber longhouses, but not all of them are associated with deposits of this
kind; instead deposits of burnt rock are often on other sites. Burnt mounds
have been reinterpreted in recent years and may even have changed their roles
during the Bronze Age (Runcis 1999). Few artefacts are associated with the
earlier examples, but those dating from the Late Bronze Age are found with
metalwork and human bones. Their wider contexts are revealing, too. They
can cover small circular stone settings. One example in the east of Sweden
overlay four concentric rings of boulders, like the monuments recorded in
cemeteries (Karlenby 1999). Deposits of burnt stone occur in other places.
They are a notable feature of the cult houses described in Chapter 7 where
they have similar associations. Here they can be found with human crema-
tions, metalworking residues and querns (Victor 2002). Deposits of burnt
stone are also associated with the long rows of hearths in South Scandinavia
(Thorn 2007). They are usually interpreted as places where feasts took place,
but it seems possible that they had been lines of bonWres. If so, they would
have been particularly impressive at night.
Recent Weldwork has shown that deposits of burnt material are associated
with South Scandinavian rock carvings. This evidence takes several diVerent
forms. There are accumulations of burnt stones around the base of the
decorated outcrops, sometimes associated with rubble platforms or enclos-
ures (Kaul 2006a and b). Similar material has been recorded on the top of the
rocks themselves, where it could be used to Wll cracks and Wssures (Bengtsson
2004). It may even impinge on the carvings. There is also some evidence for
the positions of Wres, marked by blistered patches on the surface of the stone
(Figure 73). Until recently they were attributed to recent vandalism, or even
seen as a Christian response to the pagan imagery on display. Now that
appears unlikely. Although the burnt surfaces have not been studied by
scientiWc methods, the deposits of charcoal found on these sites have radio-
carbon dates in the Bronze Age and Early Iron Age (Bengtsson 2004; Kaul
2006a; Lingaard 2006). An area of burning of this kind was sealed underneath
a Late Bronze Age cairn at the Swedish site of Hjortekrog (Widholm 1999).
On one level this emphasis on the importance of Wres reXects signiWcant
changes in the treatment of the dead (KaliV 1997). Initially, the remains of the
human body were preserved and buried, sometimes in a coYn or cist, and
occasionally in a grave in the form of a boat. Although such burials could
be aligned on the rising or setting sun, they were generally hidden from
view beneath a mound or cairn (Randsborg and Nybo 1984). In the Late
Bronze Age, however, there is evidence that bodies were burnt on pyres. The
remains of this process have been identiWed in the course of excavation at
Gualov in southern Sweden: a site which includes the remains of three cult
houses (Arcini 2005; Svanberg 2005). It is clear that what have been treated
as cremation burials in the past are often a small selection of relics from
such a pyre, the rest of which have been lost or distributed among other
contexts, including the foundations of buildings, hearths, and cultivated Welds
(Oestigaard 1999). Bo Graslund (1994) suggests that cremation was a way of
freeing the spirit of the deceased. It is certainly true that this process would
have accelerated the rites of passage.
Figure 73. Blistered patches, apparently caused by fires, on top of the decorated
outcrop at Himmelstalund, Sweden.
Some of the bodies were burnt at a very high temperature. There was only
one context in which that could be achieved: the furnace used by a metal
worker. For that reason Goldhahn (2007) and Oestigaard (2007) suggest that
the smith was also the ritual specialist who conducted funerals. It is an
attractive argument and would certainly explain why the residues of metal
production are so often found in the same contexts as burnt human bones.
A good example occurs in the settlement at Hallunda near Stockholm where
cremations were found together with the largest bronze workshop excavated
in Scandinavia. Six ovens were inside a possible cult house at this site
(Goldhahn 2007: 293306). There is also evidence that pottery was produced
in the same places as metal artefacts and that both processes could be carried
out together with the treatment of the dead. There is only one feature that
unites these separate elementsthat is the use of Wre.
In fact Wre is a vital element that connects nearly all the diVerent aspects of
Late Bronze Age visual culture. Cremation burials are directly associated with
stone settings in the form of rectangular buildings, ships, and round cairns.
All these monuments have produced Wnds of razors. Such artefacts can be
embellished with drawings of the sun carried by a boat, while a few examples
are shaped like a sea-going vessel. The large stone cult houses that were
sometimes built near to round cairns are also associated with burnt material,
as well as evidence of metal production. In the same way deposits of burnt
stones are found in direct association with Bronze Age rock carvings and may
have been deposited within a demarcated zone around the base of the
outcrop. There are other signs of Wres on top of the decorated surface, and
it is possible that some of the burnt areas on the rock mark the positions of
pyres (Goldhahn 2005: 599).
It seems likely that the Bronze Age art of Southern Scandinavia was only
one component of a more complex set of beliefs that placed a major emphasis
on the importance of the sun, the sky and the sea. These elements can
certainly be recognized in all three media considered in Chapters 6 and 7,
but it is clear that they extend to other features. The relationship between land
and water that is so obvious from the decorated metalwork is reXected not
just in the rock carvings and stone settings of this period; it is also mirrored in
the distribution of cairns along the coast. Similarly, the emphasis on the sun
and the sky is not conWned to the drawings on metal and stone, for it is
illustrated by the hilltop siting of cairns. Their circular form may be related to
the same body of ideas, while the special emphasis on Wre in the Scandinavian
Bronze Age celebrates its importance as a source of light and warmth and may
be yet another reference to the sun. That is especially interesting as it seems
possible that such beliefs owe as much to northern sources of inspiration as
they do to ideas that Wrst developed in the south.
FERTILITY AND DEATH
What light can these observations shed on the competing interpretations of

the visual images of Bronze Age Scandinavia, brieXy summarized in the
previous chapter? How were they related to the passage of the sun? Were
they primarily concerned with the fertility of people and animals, or were they
really associated with the dead?
At this point it is necessary to distinguish between the diVerent timescales
discussed at the beginning of this chapter. The earliest images may be
inXuenced by two diVerent processes, each of which involves the sun. On a
daily basis it rises from the sea, moves across the sky, and sets in the water.
During the night it travels beneath the surface and then reappears. In that
sense the sun dies and can be said to be reborn. That process is repeated every
twenty-four hours. A second cycle extends over the course of a year. In the
winter, the sun is visible for progressively shorter periods until the solstice
when the hours of daylight increase. In the summer the period of darkness is
curtailed. These distinctions are more pronounced in the north than in the
south, and in the Arctic the sun may not be visible at midwinter, but at
the height of summer it is present throughout the night. The process can be
compared with the daily cycle, but in this case it extends across the year. It is
directly related to the growth of plants which increases in the warmer months
and dies back in the winter. In a sense both cycles describe the same ideathe
death and rebirth of the sunbut in the Wrst case it happens on a daily basis,
while the second cycle extends over twelve months. It involves the diminution
of life in the colder months and its increase after the winter. In that way it is
related to fertility. Perhaps there is no need to distinguish between ideas of
death and rebirth, on the one hand, and the importance of fertility, on the
other. Both are aspects of the same set of beliefs, played out over cycles of
diVerent durations. The passage of the sun provides the most powerful
symbol in the beliefs of Bronze Age Scandinavia.
Within Scandinavia such ideasand the pictures that conveyed them in
visual formmust have contributed to the performances associated with
Bronze Age art. Here the most detailed information is provided by the
rock carvings. They are considered next.
WHERE WERE THE ROCK CARVINGS MADE?
One point is of fundamental importance. There was a direct relationship

between what could be seen in the South Scandinavian rock carvings and their
location in the prehistoric landscape and seascape.
It was essential that the sun should be visible to those who encountered
these images. Without that connection, some pictures would not make
much sense. That perhaps set a limit on the distribution of the Southern
style of rock art. It is often been claimed that it follows the distribution
of fertile soilsthat, in the traditional sense, it was farmers art (Soggnes
1995b). Of course that could be true, but is it entirely coincidental that its
distribution virtually runs out at a latitude where the sun never set during the
height of summer? At the same time, in winter the sunrise and sunset could
hardly have been seen from the carved rocks as they would usually be covered
by snow.
There are more local factors to consider. Many of the carved rocks
were beside, or near to, the sea (Figure 74), while some examples were
attached to inland lakes and rivers. These are normally the sites which feature
drawings of ships; diVerent images occur in landlocked areas (Burenhult
1980). Where the evidence has been analysed in detail, the carvings that are
connected with water tend to form local clusters along sections of the
shoreline which would have commanded views towards the rising or setting
sun. As Johan Ling has pointed out, these concentrations of carvings are often
in places which provided sheltered harbours where boats could moor and
their crews could disembarkin that sense the designs were readily accessible;
some of them were equally easy to reach by land (2008: 232 and 235). It is not
the fact that these places look out to sea that is important, but the observation
that there are sections of the coast that were largely without petroglyphs. It
appears that people chose to embellish groups of rocks within the same small
areas and to ignore other potential locations. It is unclear how many of
the decorated rocks were used simultaneously, but it is obvious that those
within these concentrations would have commanded similar views. Their
preference for east- or west-facing sections of the coastline is probably signi-
Wcant (Figure 75).
Figure 74. The relationship between the positions of the rock carvings and
successive Bronze Age shorelines near Tanum, Sweden.
Figure 75. The siting of rock carvings and cairns in relation to the Bronze Age
shoreline near Tanum, Sweden.
W HE N WERE THE ROCK CARVINGS USED?
If those factors inXuenced where the rock carvings were made, is there
any indication of when they would have been used? Their chronology has already
been discussed; what matters here is a diVerent question. Could they have been in
active use all year, or might they have been employed only at certain times?
It is diYcult to approach this question where carved rocks were on the
shoreline, for they might have been free from snow and ice to a greater extent,
or for a longer period, than others found inland. Indeed, it is the sites with
cup marks, footprints, vehicles, and wheel crosses that are most likely to have
been covered by snow. That may be revealing, as these designs place a more
direct emphasis on the sun and sky than the complex compositions near the
water. At the same time, a number of carved rocks were seen to best advantage
when they were wet, and this would certainly have happened at the end of
winter; as the snow and ice melted, the decorated surfaces would be refreshed
by running water. It goes without saying that the rocks themselves would have
been more accessible at that time of year. As the hours of daylight increased,
the carvings could have been seen for longer, and now that the sun was higher
above the horizon the colours and textures of the stone would have been
illuminated more intensely.
There is also a practical consideration to discuss. It takes a signiWcant
period of time to carve even a single ship (Ling 2008: 166), yet some of
the panels contain many separate designs. Those beside the sea in Bohus-
lan would probably have been made in summer when the tidal range was
smaller and there was less risk of storms. On the other hand, some of the
completed designs might have been exposed to spray. A few examples on
vertical surfaces could even have been carved by people standing in boats
during calm weather.
W H O U S E D T H E RO C K C A RV I N G S ?
A tantalizing question is who would have encountered the carved rocks. The
available evidence does not point to a single answer, and it seems unlikely that
these images were used by only one kind of audience. DiVerent activities took
place there, and may have involved groups of people of diVerent ages and
genders.
Two main groups can be identiWed within the carvings themselves, al-
though that is not to say that they were the only people permitted to see, or
use, these places.
The Wrst group consists of men, identiWed by an erect phallus. They have
sometimes been interpreted in terms of human fertility, but Yates has pointed
out that they are commonly associated with drawings of stags with a full set of
antlers. Both may have been considered as symbols of masculinity (Yates
1993). The drawings of naked men have a restricted distribution within
Scandinavia, and their bodies are out of proportion to all the other carved
designs. Some of the men have been described a giants and are depicted
together with swords, spears, bows, axes, and shields. The reference to warfare
is unmistakeable, but there is another sense in which these drawings may have
been images of power, for a number of examples were clearly superimposed
on already-existing drawings; often they are located on the decks of older
boats. On the other hand, it would be wrong to treat the petroglyphs as an
exclusively masculine preserve, although Ling estimates that 95 per cent of the
human Wgures in the rock carvings of Bohuslan can be identiWed as male
(2008: 218). There are a smaller number of images that probably portray
women, and the scenes of heterosexual intercourse that are sometimes de-
scribed as the sacred marriage (Johnsen 2005).
A second group of individuals may be represented by the drawings of
footprints (Figure 76). They are of much the same proportions across the
entire distribution of South Scandinavian rock art and are much too large
to belong to any of the humans depicted on the same sites. Their uniform
character suggests that they were based on the bodies of people with access to
these places. There is a wide range of variation, but if they were drawn at
life size the majority should have belonged to children or adolescents
(Brox Nilson 2005). This idea is supported by the comparatively rare images
Figure 76. Trails of carved footprints at Jarrestad, Sweden.

of bare feet, which can be considerably smaller. Perhaps some of these places
were used in rites of passage similar to the rituals postulated by Thedeen
(2003) and Kaul (1998). At the same time it is possible that individual
carvings were used by people in diVerent age groups. That can only be studied
by comparing the sizes of the footprints carved on separate sites. Hauptman
Wahlgrens study of forty decorated rocks at Norrkoping certainly identiWed
diVerences of this kind. She concluded that their prints may represent chil-
dren, young people and women (2002: 2239).
The most important rite of passage was, of course, the commemoration of
the dead. That is also evidenced at these sites. There are two observations to
consider here. The same carved motifs are found inside burial cists and in the
open air (Jellestad Syvertsen 2002). At the same time, a surprisingly large
number of Bronze Age barrows, cairns or stone settings are found on, or very
close to, the rocks where the images were made. In Sweden, nearly 20 per cent
of the decorated sites are within Wfteen metres of a funerary monument
(Joakim Goldhahn pers. comm.). There is even some evidence that cairns
were built on top of a few of these drawings. Files of carved footprints seem to
issue from cairns, and in other cases carved boats appear to travel between
these monuments and the waters edge. Similar vessels were depicted on the
kerb of the round barrow at Sagaholm (Goldhahn 1999).
There is one hypothesis that connects these diVerent observations. Haupt-
man Wahlgren (2002) has suggested that it was the individuals who had been
initiated into society at the carved rocks who were eventually buried in Bronze
Age barrow or cairns. Wahlgren is not referring to the monuments in her own
study area at Norrkoping, which are some distance from the carved rocks, but
the idea is worth considering for other sites. Thedeen (2003) and Kaul (1998)
have both suggested that the small artefacts deposited with cremation burials
carried a long history with them and were buried with the dead because they
had played a crucial role in the rites of passage. Such rituals may have
included initiation ceremonies. Perhaps the construction of cairns close to
the carved footprints of young people resulted from a similar process. It can
be compared with Christopher Tilleys interpretation of Hogsbyn, where the
carvings of human Wgures may pass from childhood to maturity as they move
between a lake and a cemetery (Tilley 1999: Wg. 5.14). Here there may even be
evidence for a complex cycle, linking youth, adulthood, death, and rebirth
with the passage of the sun.
These interpretations relate to some of the main protagonists in the use of
the rock carvings: adult men or gods, young people and probably the dead. It
only remains to be added that the audience for the images, and for the
ceremonies associated with them, might have been much more diverse.
There is no evidence to shed any light on this question.
WHAT HAPPE NE D AT T H E C ARV ED RO CK S?
It may be more useful to concentrate on the activities associated with these

places.
If the images are treated as works of art in a modern Western sense, the
main activity would have been looking at the diVerent drawings and attempt-
ing to interpret them. That is not surprising since it has been the main process
followed by archaeologists in studying these sites. Most likely, both would
have attempted to trace a narrative among the diVerent drawings. There is no
way of knowing whether those diVerent interpretations, separated from one
another by more than two thousand years, have anything in common. On the
other hand, the organization of some of the individual panels seems to
presuppose an audience located at the edge of the decorated surface (Tilley
2004: chapter 4). At sites where people had embellished a sloping rock it
might be possible to survey the images from a single viewpoint. There are also
places where the rock was too steep or slippery for that to happen, and images
on vertical surfaces that may have been inspected from boats. Where the
ground was more or less level, the audience may have had to move around the
panel in order to examine its contents. The placing and orientation of the
diVerent images would have inXuenced the course followed by the viewer.
Similarly, many of the larger outcrops feature several diVerent panels. While
the conventions discussed in Chapter 7 might have inXuenced the compos-
ition of individual scenes, it would have been necessary to change position in
order to see them all.
This was probably what happened at Hasthallen in southern Sweden. This
is a large Xat rock, located at the centre of the Torhamn peninsula. There are
three main panels of decoration which feature drawings of boats, sun symbols
and footprints among other motifs. Lena Konig (2007) has observed that the
foot soles towards the eastern limits of the outcrop point to the position of the
rising sun. During the course of the summer it would have moved around the
peninsula, emerging from the sea to its north-east and setting into the water
to its north-west, where the only cairns in the region are found. Konig
observes that, in contrast to the normal pattern, the three clusters of drawings
at Hasthallen were not organized in relation to the position of an audience
located beside one edge of the panel. Rather, the Wgures are placed in such a
way that the observer is forced to move over the rock to be able to see all the
Wgures from the [correct] angle (Konig 2007: 68; Figure 77). The viewer
passed around the drawings in the same way as the sun travelled around the
peninsula.
Figure 77. One of the decorated panels at Hasthallen, Sweden.
A diVerent example is provided by the principal rock at Himmelstalund.

On the northern side of the outcrop a series of night ships travels towards
the Baltic. These images were sometimes in shadow, but the largest vessels can
be seen by an observer standing at the bottom of the panel. There are smaller
boats further up the decorated surface, but it is necessary to climb the rock in
order to view them. It is these vessels that are associated with drawings of the
sun. Wheel crosses are also found in isolation on the higher part of the
outcrop. It is surely no accident that the solar motifs can be identiWed at
the point when the viewer sees the southern horizon for the Wrst timeuntil
then, it is concealed. The changing character of the motifs reXects the viewers
passage up the sloping surface. There is no evidence of a similar pattern on the
opposite side of the outcrop, which faces the sun
In other cases an audience might need to pass between a series of diVerent
outcrops to see the images in context. The best example of this is at Hogsbyn.
In his analysis of the site Tilley suggests that people moved between the
decorated surfaces from south to north, following a path between the edge
of a lake and a cemetery on higher ground (1999: Wg. 5.14). Chapter 7
suggested an alternative interpretation in which the audience followed the
course of the sun, down to the waters edge and back again. It does not matter
which of these readings is the more convincing, for both versions depend on
the patterns of similarity and contrast between the diVerent panels and on the
process of moving between them.
On a smaller scale, the lines of footprints carved on individual outcrops
may also indicate a kind of path, but on a site like Jarrestad they assumed
so much formality that it might be better to think in terms of a procession
(Coles 1999). The identity of the actors has already been discussed. Perhaps
the carved footprints are less a representation of where people had travelled in
the past than a series of cues as to where they should stand, or the appropriate
pattern of movement. Was their main role to choreograph the passage of the
actors across the rock? One reason for taking view is that processions are
among the most distinctive scenes in South Scandinavian rock art (Coles
2003b). Whatever the occasions on which they happened, they were obviously
of considerable importance.
If this is correct, it places a special emphasis on any contrasts between the
top and bottom of the rock. Certain features might be found at both loca-
tions. Just as Wres were lit on some of the decorated outcrops, they could have
burnt around the borders of these sites, where their special signiWcance might
be emphasized by a platform or an enclosure wall. Artefacts might be placed
inside the cracks and Wssures in the decorated surface, but on some of the
simpler sites (which may have been located near to settlements) the same
kinds of materialpottery, burnt clay, and worked stonehave been found
below the outcrop too (Bengtsson 2004; Kaul 2006a). Even so, there are
important diVerences between these locations. People standing on the decor-
ated surface would have been seen against the skyline, highlighted like the
actors on a stage. Fires burning on the summit of a decorated rock would be
visible from a greater distance than the others, and would have had a stronger
visual impact. That would certainly have been true at Himmelstalund where
the burnt patches extend along the crest of the main rock, approaching the
positions of the nearest carvings but leaving them intact. Where the drawings
end there are fewer indications of Wreshardly evidence for recent vandalism.
In such cases the topography of the rock would have raised certain actors
and the tasks they were performingabove the other people on the site, for
the surface of the outcrop was like a platform on which movements, gestures,
music and speech could all have been directed towards a wider audience. That
is especially true at Revheim where one set of rock carvings is on top of a cliV
and a second, much larger series at its foot. Both sets of images are closely
related to one another, but there is no direct access between those two
locations. The topography of the natural outcrop divided one group of
participants from another as eVectively as the architecture of a passage
grave (Bradley, Jones, Nordenborg Myhre, and Sackett 2003).
At the same time, other activities might have been associated with the base
of the decorated rock and the areas beyond it. There may be evidence of
feasting at these locations, but at a greater distance there could have been
deposits of Bronze Age metalwork, especially when the carved rocks were close
to water. The evidence is much more limited, but two well-known examples
illustrate this point. The rock carvings beside the river at Himmelstalund
feature a number of drawings of Early Bronze Age swords and axes. Both kinds
of artefacts are known from votive deposits in the vicinity (Hauptmann
Wahlgren 2002). In the same way, there was a bog below the decorated cliV
at Revheim (Bradley, Jones, Nordenborg Myhre, and Sackett 2003). At diVer-
ent times a sword, a dagger, and two of the musical instruments known as lurs
have all been found there.
Observation
Revheim is important because the carved rock provided a vantage point from
which to observe the midwinter solstice. That may explain the presence of a
spiral and a wheel cross at its highest point. Two pairs of footprints are also
located on the cliV edge looking out over the lower ground.
Isolated pairs of footprints are found so often that they require a speciWc
explanation (Figure 78). They occur at several of the sites discussed in detail
here. For example, they appear towards the top of the sloping surface at
Jarrestad next to two small mounds, one of which contained a cup-marked
stone (Coles 1999). Their positions would have commanded a view towards
the east, where there is a distant view of the Baltic. It is here that the sun would
have been visible in the morning sky. Similarly, pairs of human footprints are a
common feature at Hogsbyn where they occur at intervals throughout the
distribution of the rock carvings. Again they seem to be directed towards the
summer sun at various points in its circuit along the eastern horizon. Others
face the sunset (Bradley 2007c: 21214). There is comparable evidence from
the main outcrop at Himmelstalund, where pairs of footprints can be found
near to the carvings of wheel crosses. For the most part they face north, with a
concentration towards the positions of the summer sunrise and sunset.
The same pattern occurs throughout the well recorded rock art of
Bohuslan, on the west coast of Sweden, and stfold, across the Norwegian
border to the north (Coles 2005). Here the isolated pairs of footprints face
north-east, south-west, and north-west, with a slightly smaller group that is
directed towards the south-east. There are practically no other alignments.
The same may be true of a smaller sample in south-west Uppland (Coles
2000), and a similar pattern can probably be recognized from Burenhults
tracings of Bronze Age rock carvings in south-east Sweden, but this evidence
is less decisive because some of his drawings lack a north point and cannot be
included in the analysis (Burenhult 1973). In all these areas the axes identiWed
by the footprints correspond to the turning points of the year. North-east and
north-west mark the directions of the midsummer sunrise and sunset re-
spectively; south-east and south-west indicate the same events at midwinter
Figure 78. Carving of paired footprints at Himmelstalund, Sweden.
(Figure 79). The relationship is very striking indeed. The pattern probably
changes in other areas. In the large group of carvings in south-west Norway,
recorded by Eva and Per Fett (1947), all these images are orientated between
south-east and south-west.
Of course such orientations are not as precise as the alignments of Neolithic
tombs, but they do show an overriding concern with the movement of the sun
through the sky, and with the places where it appears and disappears. If the
Wles of carved footprints choreographed the passage of people across the
decorated surface, surely these images mark the stances where observers
celebrated the suns arrival and departure at particular times of year. Indeed,
it is even possible that that what look like paths leading across the rock were
actually where groups of actors stood in rows to observe such phenomena. It
is diYcult to decide between these explanations, but in each case they would
have been raised above a congregation at the base of the rock.
Figure 79. The orientation of carvings of paired footprints in Bohuslan and

Uppland (Sweden), and stfold (Norway).
Animation
Finally, discussions of prehistoric rock carvings give the impression that the
drawings were directed exclusively to a human audience. That may be mis-
taken.
It is worth recalling some characteristics of the carved images. They are
often quite ephemeral, yet there is no evidence that they had ever been
painted. Unless they were recut on a regular basis, they would probably
fade. They are best seen early in the morning, or in the evening when the
sun is low in the sky and the drawings are highlighted by shadows (Coles
2004). They are easiest to recognize when they are damp, and some of the
clearest drawings are crossed by running water. They can also be recognized
because they make use of natural Wssures or mineral veins running through
the rock (Hauptmann Wahlgren 2000; Bradley, Jones, Nordenborg Myhre,
and Sackett 2003). Some of the pictures would have been concealed by
snow and ice during the winter months, and others might have been inaccess-
ible. During the summer, however, the appearance of decorated surfaces
beside the sea would have been enhanced by spray and by light reXecting oV
the water.
The images would be most apparent if the audiences were able to view
them at the optimum times, perhaps moving between separate panelsor
separate rocksat intervals during the day. They might also have been
illuminated by Wres, which could have happened at night. The crucial point
is that all but the freshest of the drawings would have been diYcult to
recognize without the aid of these processes. It was sun, water and, quite
possibly, Wrelight that brought the pictures to life. In many cases this could
only have happened at certain times. The spring would mark one important
transition as carvings emerged from snow and ice and the designs were wet. It
is this relationship between the carved rocks and the forces of nature that is
too often overlooked. It raises the possibility that certain of the drawings were
directed to the sun as much as to any human audience.
In fact the conWguration of certain of the carved rocks suggests an import-
ant distinction between those on top of the outcrop watching the movements
of the sun, and those lower down who were better placed to observe the
drawings themselves. If the sun illuminated the carvings at the turning points
of the year, this could have been seen by an audience who were located above
the carved surfaces, looking towards the horizon. At other times the same
places may have been used in quite diVerent waysfor funeral ceremonies, or
for other rites of passage. On such occasions the audience may have collected
around the base of the rock, facing the carved designs, and some of the images
may even have been animated by the light of Wres.
IMAGE, PERFORMANCE, AND BELIEF
This chapter has considered all these elements. The beliefs that seem to have
been important in the Scandinavian Bronze Age were closely allied to experi-
ence of life in parts of Northern Europe where the heat and light of the sun
were an ever-present concern. Its movements seem to have been recorded in
three quite diVerent mediadecorated metalwork, rock carvings, and geo-
glyphsand may have provided the basis for a series of beliefs that considered
such fundamental concerns as human and animal fertility, death, and the
regeneration of life. They pervade the visual culture of later prehistory.
At the same time, such images were not meant for passive contemplation.
The rock carvings seem to have been set apart from the settlements of the
same period, and the more complex of them were in places which provide
evidence of specialized performances, of which the most important was
the commemoration of the dead. The same connection is illustrated by the
decorated metalwork, much of which is associated with burials, and by
the geoglyphs which generally occur in cemeteries. The siting of many of
the images refers to the relationship between the sea, the land and the sky: one
of the major themes illustrated in these three media.
The carved designs were directly integrated into the workings of the natural
world. Many of them vanished and reappeared according to the cycle of the
seasons. They could only be viewed at certain times of day and during
particular periods of the year. Otherwise they were most accessible when
they were illuminated by Wrelight or running water. It is a moot point whether
the emergence of these Wgures from the stone was more signiWcant than the
details of the images themselves. In fact it is an open question whether
members of the audience would have observed the creation of those designs
in the Wrst place.
In either case the designs were not treated in isolation, like the pictures in a
gallery. They had to be viewed from particular positions, and perhaps in a
speciWc sequence as people moved between the diVerent panels and the sun
travelled across the sky. They may have been consulted on special occasions
midsummer and midwinter seem to have been especially signiWcantand
some of the images may even refer to speciWc groups, especially the adoles-
cents whose footprints were engraved in the living rock. The organization of
certain of the major sites suggests an important distinction between those
who were allowed to walk across the carved surface and those who had to
watch from a distance. There may have been a similar division between the
people who observed the rising and setting sun from positions that were
marked by petroglyphs, and those who saw its eVects on the drawings
themselves. Again it was never a passive activity. Fires were burning on and
around the rocks; sometimes there were feasts; and valuable objects may have
been sacriWced nearby. The images can only be understood in a wider context,
and yet that context is forgotten when they are treated as works of art.
The same is true of the images that were associated with the Neolithic tombs
discussed in Chapters 3 to 5. In the light of these observations, the closing
section of the book considers some of the ways of rethinking prehistoric art.
Part IV
Prehistoric Art and Archaeology
9
Losses in Translation
Two kinds of translation intervene between the artworks of the past and those
of the present day. The Wrst is the transformation of ancient objects through
the antiquities trade. Once they are taken out of their original contexts they
enter a new domain in which their associations are ignored and their visual
appearance changes them into works of art. The second translation is where
they provide a model for contemporary artists who may be equally uncon-
cerned with the primary roles of those objects. That process is considered
here.
PA ST A N D PR ES EN T
Chapter 1 made the point that exotic artefacts were studied and collected by
modern painters and sculptors, like Picasso, Braque, Modigliani, and Brancusi.
These objects suggested new ways of seeing and new sources of visual images.
Sometimes their inXuence was even more direct, so that there are paintings
in which it is possible to discern the original models among African masks or
Wgure sculptures. The same process involved ancient objects, although the artists
would not have been concerned with the ages of these artefacts as much as their
appearance. In this way prehistoric images were incorporated into twentieth-
century art.
These developments separated certain objects from their original contexts,
and one aim of this chapter is to consider which elements were most obvi-
ously lost in translation. It is one way of distinguishing between the nature of
the images in prehistory and their role in contemporary culture. A second aim
is to reconsider some of the processes involving prehistoric art itself and to
compare them with the ideas behind Conceptual Art and Installation Art.
This account suggests that both ancient and modern objects can be inter-
preted using the same body of theory. The links are not formed by the images
themselves, but by the ideas that led to their creation. Here the discussion
refers to Colin Renfrews recent book Figuring It Out, which has the subtitle
The Parallel Visions of Artists and Archaeologists (Renfrew 2002)
204 Prehistoric Art and Archaeology
DRAWING ON THE PAST
The prehistoric Wgurines of the Cyclades provide one of Renfrews examples.

They are relevant here because it is known that they were admired by
Constantin Brancusi whose work they obviously inXuenced. Renfrew comments
that very few Cycladic sculptures come from well documented contexts. The
majority have been obtained by illegal excavations and sold to collectors. They
have been studied, classiWed and dated, not least by Renfrew himself, but all too
little is known about the ways in which they were originally used (Renfrew 1993
and 2008). Indeed, the original roles of the life-size human sculptures remain
completely obscure.
Renfrew summarizes the limited information that is available. Some of the
smaller Wgures have been found in cemeteries where they occur in a few of the
graves. Others are occasionally associated with settlement sites where they
were probably made. Certain of the objects may be unWnished, while a
number had been broken and repaired. The most striking information
comes from a badly damaged site on the island of Keros which had been
looted before it was investigated by archaeologists (Renfrew 1993: 234;
Renfrew, Doumas, Marangou, and Gavalas 2007). This was not a settlement,
although there was one nearby, and the surviving material was dominated by
fragments of carved Wgurines which had been deliberately broken in the past.
None of the remaining sculptures was intact, presumably because any whole
objects had been removed by looters. It was the complete pieces that circu-
lated through the art market and acquired a monetary value (Sotirakopolou
2005). The broken fragments had been left behind, and yet they provide the
strongest clue to the original roles of these artefacts and even to the character
of the site.
Renfrew argues that this was neither a workshop nor a dwelling place. It
was most probably a sanctuary where sculptures were deliberately destroyed: a
widely documented process which was discussed in Chapter 4. He compares
their treatment with that of some of the Wgures found in graves. Of course
that does not account for the undamaged pieces that dominate museum and
private collections, nor does it explain the unusual life-size sculptures which
lack an archaeological context. Nevertheless it does suggest that the motives of
the people who made and used these objects were entirely diVerent from those
of the connoisseurs who acquire them today. Moreover, these objects had
quite diVerent connotations from the modern artworks which they may have
inspired. It even seems possible that complete and undamaged Cycladic
sculptures were the exception rather than the rule. Modern perceptions of
these artefacts have been biased by the requirements of the antiquities trade.
Losses in Translation 205
There are other cases in which twentieth-century artists were inXuenced by

prehistoric visual images. One is the work of the famous Catalan artist Joan
Miro. His career shows just how complex these inXuences could be. His early
works were largely Wgurative, but his mature paintings and sculptures deploy
a series of largely abstract devices that owe something to the inXuence of
Surrealism. At the same time, certain of these elements include drawings of
the sun, eyes, humans and animals which resemble the repertoire of Iberian
Schematic Art. There is evidence that he was inXuenced by these designs,
although art historians have confused them with Palaeolithic cave paintings
(Rowell ed. 1986: 3 and 203). That is incorrect, for Miro is known to have
drawn on sites in southern Spain where nearly all the paintings are of
postglacial origin. He also drew on Schematic Art in the south of France,
where Palaeolithic images were not discovered until after his death (Hameau
2003).
His change of style was inXuenced by another factor which is documented
in interviews. When he broke with naturalism, he based his paintings on what
he called hallucinations, which he induced by starving himself. That may
be why some of his work recalls the entoptic imagery discussed by Lewis-
Williams and Dowson (1988). That is interesting, but it takes on an added
signiWcance when these motifs are compared with those in Schematic Art, for
the caves and rock shelters where they are found may have played a specialized
role in prehistory. They are sometimes in remote locations and could not have
accommodated many people. Not all were living sites, and there are certainly
cases in which the decorated caves and rock shelters were associated with
human burials. It is possible that the painted surfaces recorded what Dron-
Weld (1995a) calls subjective vision. In that case Miros images and their
prehistoric counterparts may originate from similar sources in the nervous
system. What is missing from Miros paintings is any sense of the distinctive
places where the prehistoric motifs occur, or of the special character of
the activities that happened there. Again the most informative feature of the
archaeological evidence has been ignored.
Both examples illustrate the same point. Perhaps the best way of charac-
terizing ancient art is by focusing on those features that do not have any
obvious equivalents in the artworks of the twentieth century: the period when
painters and sculptors tried to assimilate the material culture of the remote
past. It is important to establish which elements were left out as prehistoric
artefacts made the transition from their original settings to a new role in
galleries and collections. The process is similar to that described by Howard
Morphy (2007) in his recent account of Australian Aboriginal art.
MIXED MEDIA
There is an important distinction between portable objects and images that

cannot be moved. On the whole the smaller artefacts have received more
attention because they are easier to study. They may be found in association
with other kinds of material; they can be placed in chronological order
through their stratigraphic contexts; and their age can sometimes be meas-
ured by radiocarbon dating. In that respect the decorated pieces which have
been treated as ancient art are investigated by the same procedures as any
other objects. That is why they dominate accounts of Iron Age decorated
metalwork. To some extent the same is true in the Late Bronze Age, but not in
Scandinavia. During earlier periods, however, the balance shifts. Monumental
art and open-air rock art predominate, and comparatively few small objects
carry similar designs. Access to the earlier images depended mainly on the
places where they were made.
At the same time, decorated tombs do have counterparts in quite diVerent
media, and so do rock paintings and carvings. Thus the repertoire of mega-
lithic art overlaps with pottery decoration, and the motifs on the Bronze Age
metalwork of South Scandinavia also feature in the petroglyphs of the same
region (Kaul 1998). Similarly, Late Neolithic pottery in Orkney is decorated
with the same motifs as stone artefacts, the walls of houses and those of
chambered tombs (Shepherd 2000). The cross references between these
diVerent contexts provide the basis for deWning particular styles of imagery,
but they do more than that. One problem with studying decorated objects
however elaborate or rareis that they appear in the archaeological record in
only two contexts. They are found where they were taken out of circulation,
and occasionally there is evidence of sites where they were made. The remain-
der of their history has left no trace behind. The artefacts from La Te`ne, which
were discussed in Chapter 1, provide a typical example. Very little is known
about the circumstances in which they were created, or the settings in which
they were used. It is uncertain who would have had access to the more
elaborate objects, or the extent to which decorated metalwork was exchanged
between diVerent people and diVerent communities. All that has been estab-
lished with any certainty is that at the end of their careers they were deposited
in a river (Reginelli Servais 2007).
Rock art or decorated monuments oVer a diVerent perspective. They can
rarely be dated directly, although surviving pigment has provided some
radiocarbon samples, but the painted and carved surfaces do have the advan-
tage that they have rarely been moved. In principle, their entire history can be
traced by careful analysis. Again that statement requires some qualiWcation,

for there are certainly cases in which decorated stones were transported from
one context to another, and even examples like the principal tomb at Knowth
where a major monument was formed out of the remains of another structure
(Eogan 1998). Such examples are exceptional and should be easy to identify.
Otherwise it is the Wxed component of prehistoric art that can shed most light
on the contexts in which it was employed. That is why the Bronze Age rock
carvings of South Scandinavia have been used to interpret the decorated
metalwork of the same period. It is also why a book which might have been
based on decorated objects has laid so much emphasis on images made in
more durable media.
If the designs associated with portable objects are shared with tomb
decoration, studies of similar contexts show how much information is over-
looked when these artefacts are treated in the same ways as modern works of
art. The same is true when they provide a source of inspiration for contem-
porary painters and sculptors. The following section considers some of the
elements that have been lost in translation.
(RE)PLACING THE IMAGE
The title of this section can be taken in two ways. The Wrst is perhaps the most
obvious. It suggests that individual images should no longer provide the main
focus for archaeological analysis. At the same time, those designs could be
re-placed in another sense: the places where people encountered them might
make an important contribution to the analysis. In that case the best proced-
ure is to begin any discussion with images whose positions were Wxed, before
considering the much more limited evidence provided by portable artefacts.
All the examples discussed here have been introduced in earlier chapters.
THE SOURC ES OF THE IMAGES: PLACES,

M AT E R IA L S , A N D P RO C E S S E S
There are a number of factors that seem to have inXuenced the placing, and
even the character, of the monumental images. Among the most important
was the form of the natural landscape. Thus particular kinds of images were
created in particular kinds of placesBritish and Irish rock art on incon-
spicuous outcrops (Bradley 1997a: chapter 6), Iberian Schematic Art in caves
or rock shelters and at remote locations in mountainous country (Hameau

and Painard 2006). In the southern Alps there is a similar contrast between
De Saulieus art discret and art ostentatoire; one was created on Xat or
gently sloping rocks, and the other on vertical surfaces (De Saulieu 2004). At
times the very nature of the images was suggested by the local topography.
Thus some of the carved ships on sites in south-west Norway are associated
with natural features which resemble upturned boats (Nordenborg Myhre
2004: 1789), and some of the stone vessels in Gotland run parallel to the
coast (Hallin 2002).
The micro-topography of the decorated surface could have been as im-
portant as the designs that were painted and carved. In the west of Scotland,
petroglyphs are associated with outcrops characterized by cracks and mineral
veins, rather than those with a smoother surface. Not only were these features
incorporated in the carved designs, they may have been considered as petro-
glyphs in their own right. Andrew Jones (2005) has argued that the con-
Wguration of these natural features may even have determined which kinds
of carvings were made. Thus a regular lattice of Wssures and bands of quartz
was interpreted as a design associated with megalithic art and new motifs
were added, some of which would be appropriate in a chambered tomb.
Where the available space was divided up in a less regular manner, diVerent
designs were created.
More examples of this connection have been identiWed in Northern
Europe. They can be recognized on several scales. Individual images may
have been integrated with veins of quartz which resembled snow or the
surface of the sea. Separate panels could be enclosed by Wssures, or were
distinguished by folds in the surface of the stone. At the same time, the
processes aVecting the rock suggested the choice of images (Bradley, Jones,
Nordenborg Myhre, and Sackett 2003). There are sites in Southern Scandi-
navia where drawings of ships were deliberately located where they would be
covered by running water, and many others where the same motifs were
within sight of the sea (Bengtsson 2004; Ling 2008). Colour was important,
too. In northern Britain spirals like those in megalithic art are associated with
deposits of red stone (Frodsham 1996). Like De Saulieus art ostentatoire,
they were often on vertical panels. Red rocks were also selected for the rock
paintings in south-east Spain discussed by Margarita Diaz Andreu (2002).
Just as the images could be created in places that were more or less
conspicuous, they could also be directed towards the sun as a source of
light. That was clearly the case with Schematic Art sites in north-east Spain
(Hameau and Painard 2006) and with a number of statue menhirs in the
southern Alps (Harrison and Heyd 2007). At the same time, more abstract
drawings in Britain, Ireland, and Galicia all seem to have been orientated
towards the south (Bradley 1997a: tables 9 and 29). In other cases these
images were made on horizontal surfaces and seem to face the sky. This also
applies to some groups of cup marks in Sweden (Coles 2000: 35). By contrast,
particular designs may have been located in positions that were usually in
shadow, and there are even instances in which small panels were hidden
from view.
Sound was also signiWcant. Goldhahn (2002) has suggested that this was
one reason why major sites in the Northern Scandinavian style of rock art
were associated with cataracts, but it seems possible that certain of the panels
in the Southern tradition had special acoustic properties. A few were washed
by the sea and may have been exposed to storms, while the decorated cliV at
Revheim would have ampliWed the sounds produced by visitors gathering
along its base. It is surely no coincidence that two bronze trumpets or lurs
were deposited in the bog below the carvings (Nordenborg Myhre 2004: 106).
At other sites people playing these instruments are shown in the drawings
themselves.
When were these places used? Much depends on the times at which the
drawings and paintings could be seen. It is important to make a distinction
between the daily movement of the sun and the progression of the seasons.
On a daily basis individual images might appear and disappear as the sun
crossed the sky. At times they would have received direct illumination; at
others, they would have been in shadow. The images were seen to most
advantage in low light, and some of them might have been associated with
the sunrise or the sunset. Chapter 8 suggested that certain of the Southern
Scandinavian images may even have been directed towards the sun at the
turning points of the year. That is not the full range of possibilities, for the
carved surfaces might also have been visible by moonlight. That certainly
applies to the quartz veins that feature in these panels.
For part of the year Scandinavian petroglyphs and small stone monuments
could have been buried by snow and ice. Sometimes their position would also
have been obscured because the sun was low in the sky during the winter. As
the days became longer and warmer, they reappeared, the carved motifs
enhanced by running water. For a short period ship settings and the platforms
associated with them would have been seen with exceptional clarity because
there was little or no vegetation. Frachetti and Chippindale (2002) have made
the same point in a study of Alpine rock carvings which would have been
visible over an even shorter period. Those on Mont Bego are in an area which
can be used as pasture for only three months of the year.
Prehistoric monuments emphasized similar factors, but in this case the use
of architecture gave them an added emphasis. Particular parts of these
buildings may have been characterized by speciWc kinds of images, like the
paintings and sculptures in Iberian chambered tombs (Bueno Ramrez and

Balbn Behrmann 2006a). Another example comes from Ireland, where there
is an association between entrance passages, circular designs, and spirals
(DronWeld 1996). In that case there is also a distinction between the prom-
inent designs on the kerbs of monuments in the Boyne Valley and the more
Xuid pattern inside these structures, where some of the decorated surfaces
were repeatedly changed (Cochrane 2005 and 2006).
Again the character of the raw material was most important. In the Irish
monuments the same stones might be decorated in two quite diVerent ways.
In an initial phase they were treated as a blank canvas on which to draw. In a
subsequent phase new designs were made which paid greater attention to the
contours of the stones, transforming some of the orthostats into three-
dimensional sculptures (OSullivan 1986). Sometimes the shapes, colours,
and textures of these stones were also emphasized by picking (Eogan and
Aboud 1990). A similar process may have been followed where the surface of
the rock was masked by pigment, but in this case paintings inside the tomb
were renewed. This has been recognized in the Iberian Peninsula (Carrera
Ramrez and Fabregas Valcarce 2006), but it is not known how frequently it
happened.
In other cases the surfaces of the stones were not embellished, but the
architecture of the monuments illustrates similar concerns. Chris Scarre has
shown how Neolithic tombs in north-west France, northern Germany and the
Netherlands used raw materials of contrasting materials and colours. The
uprights were separated from one another as if they were put on display
(Scarre 2004a and b). Something similar happened in Britain, where rough
stones were often paired with smooth ones in these structures (Cummings
2002). In the west of Sweden passage graves have no decoration apart from
the cup marks on top of their capstones, but again they were built out of
materials of contrasting colours. In this case special attention was paid to
mineral inclusions visible in the surface of the rock. They resemble the
abstract designs that were painted or carved inside comparable monuments
in other parts of Europe (Bradley and Phillips 2008).
There are also cases in which entire styles of decoration typiWed particular
types of structure. Thus the Neolithic houses in Orkney were embellished
with linear decoration. The same designs were associated with a series of
domestic artefacts, but they are also found inside the chambered tombs which
took those buildings as their prototype. One source of inspiration might be
the distinctive appearance of the local sandstone where it is exposed on the
seashore (Shepherd 2000). Curvilinear designs, on the other hand, are asso-
ciated with decorated outcrops in Britain and Ireland and are extremely rare
in the domestic sphere (Beckensall 1999 and 2006). The two traditions come
together in a monumental synthesis at some of the Irish tombs.
Again many of these distinctions depended on sunlight. Otherwise the
pictures could only be seen with artiWcial illumination. Some parts of the
tombs would be visible on a regular basis, but others would have been in
darkness unless they were lit by torches: a process that could result in
dangerously low levels of oxygen inside these buildings (Nash 2007). Only
occasionally were the interiors completely visible, for, although most ex-
amples face east or south, the light would not penetrate far inside these
structures unless the sun was at the correct height in the sky. It would have
been diYcult to align the monuments precisely, yet a signiWcant number of
tombs were lit with special intensity at the solstices. In Iberia a few of the
painted and carved images might have represented the sun (Acosta 1968), but
among the other elements illuminated on these occasions were the colours
and textures of the raw material. Sometimes the sunlight lit the designs on the
back wall of the chamber. Again they might appear in isolation or could form
part of more extensive friezes extending across a series of diVerent stones.
The movement of sunlight into the tombs had the eVect of subdividing the
space and of revealing some of the paintings and carvings at the expense of
others. These processes have been characterized as display, disclosure, and
concealment (Bradley and Phillips 2008). The Wrst term refers to the visual
eVects that were visible from the exterior of the structure: the nature of the
entrance stones, the character of the kerb, and the material used to build the
cairn. Disclosure refers to those eVects that would only be evident to someone
entering the building; these experiences might well have presented themselves
in a speciWc sequence. Concealment, on the other hand, describes the visual
(and tactile) eVects that would not have been apparent with natural lighting
or to a person moving down the entrance passage. Many could only be
appreciated with deliberate illumination. The darkest parts of these
tombsoften the most remoteare those which may have helped to induce
altered states of consciousness. Such eVects sometimes occurred together with
unusual acoustic phenomena, and, in combination, both would have con-
tributed to the extraordinary character of these places.
Do such patterns extend to decorated artefacts? In fact there is little
evidence, and that is precisely why monumental art provides such a useful
starting point for the enquiry. Some of the images could share a common
origin, but all too little is known about the places in which portable objects
were used before they entered the archaeological record. Thus the Bronze Age
metalwork of Southern Scandinavia features drawings of the sun not unlike
those in the rock carvings of the same period. The sun also features in Iberian
Schematic Art where the same motif is shared between rock paintings and
Figure 80. Iron Age timber structures and associated deposits at La Te`ne,
Switzerland.
decorated pottery (Martn and Camalich 1982). Water is equally signiWcant

as a source of visual images. Asa Fredell (2003) has suggested that it was
depicted on Scandinavian metalwork, and this is surely true where the designs
feature drawings of boats. The same idea could have been conveyed by the
pictures of water birds in Celtic art (Fitzpatrick 2007), and it may be no

accident that some of the artefacts that carried these designs were deposited in
rivers, lakes and bogs.
In one case the relationship between Iron Age artefacts and their Wnd spots
recalls the evidence from earlier prehistory. It seems clear that La Te`ne and a
series of related sites included wooden structures which were probably bridges
(Figure 80). They were associated with deposits of weapons, tools, and human
bones. It is tempting to suggest that they were places where diVerent com-
munities met. As people crossed the water, they made appropriate oVerings. It
might seem unlikely that these sites were associated with the heavenly bodies,
but a number of the timber structures can be dated by dendrochronology.
Chamberlain and Parker Pearson have observed that a high proportion of
them were constructed, or rebuilt, in years in which there was a lunar eclipse
(Field and Parker Pearson 2003: 13648). In a way the portable artefacts
support this interpretation, as La Te`ne metalwork features drawings of the
moon (Fitzpatrick 1996).
RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN THE IMAGES
It is possible to say rather more about the relationships between the images
created in diVerent media. There are obvious resemblances, but the diVer-
ences are signiWcant, too. Among the most important contrasts are those of
scale. Chapter 4 began with a comparison between the treatment of Neolithic
Wgurines in Eastern Europe and the histories of statues in the West. Both may
have been inXuenced by similar concerns, but, if so, they were expressed in
very diVerent ways. On the one hand, there was a trend towards miniaturiza-
tion; on the other, a predilection for the monumental (Scarre 2007a).
Although the distinction is not absolute, it may have been inXuenced by
another factor. For the most part the use of decorated Wgurines and other
small but elaborately decorated artefacts happened in regions in which the
settlement was the principal focus (Bailey 2005). In many cases sites were
occupied so intensively that they developed into tells. In that sense their
positions were monumentalized. The occupation sites in other regions were
more ephemeral. Of course there are exceptionsa few Neolithic settlements
in Western Europe were enclosed by earthworksbut in many parts of this
region there was a diVerent emphasis, and stone settings were evidently more
signiWcant. Some were embellished with non-Wgurative motifs, but others
may have been regarded as statues of particular people, ancestors or super-
natural beings. There are cases in which the miniature and the monumental
came to be combined, most particularly the small idols associated with

Iberian passage graves, but more often designs in these two media have
mutually exclusive distributions. In some areas, visual images were at their
most elaborate in the domestic sphere. In others, they were created at diVerent
sites.
At a local scale the same applies to the deposits of portable artefacts
usually metalworkwhich have been described as hoards or votive deposits.
David Fontijn (2003) has suggested that during the Bronze Age in the
southern Netherlands certain items might be associated with the settlements
themselves, and others with nearby cemeteries. On the other hand, more
elaborate artefacts had to be committed to the ground or deposited in water at
an increasing distance from the places where people lived. Thus sickles or
local types of personal ornament could be discarded among the houses; axes
and spears were more appropriate further away, in streams, in marshes or
along natural boundaries, while non-local ornaments and more spectacular
weapons entered major rivers at a still greater remove. The same might also
apply to Iron Age metalwork.
It seems possible that similar conventions applied, not just to decorated
artefacts, but to the visual images created in other media. There are two
possibilities to consider. The Wrst is the situation described by Fontijn.
DiVerent kinds of images might be found with increasing distance from the
domestic world. Thus in Ireland and northern Britain, it seems as if the most
elaborate rock carvings were often on higher ground, or at the margins of the
settled land (Bradley 1997a: chapter 6). Their special role is emphasized by
the fact that their closest counterparts occur in chambered tombs. Cup-
marked rocks, on the other hand, are found close to occupation sites. Again
in Southern Scandinavia it seems as if the most complex images were distanced
from the living sites (Nilsson 2005). Field survey in the Tagus Valley near the
Spanish/Portuguese border leads to a similar conclusion. Here simple cup
marks are associated with the settlements; beside the river there is a series of
complex carvings; and the uplands are associated with painted caves and rock
shelters. In this case the designs that occupy the most secluded locations are
also associated with the dead (Bueno Ramirez, Balbn Behrmann, and Barroso
Bermajo 2004).
If Fontijns interpretation of metalwork deposits in the Netherlands sug-
gested a way of looking at the distribution of visual images, it raises another
possibility. He was concerned with deposits of Bronze Age metalwork, either
as single Wnds or hoards. Both have close equivalents among prehistoric rock
carvings (Bradley 1998a). Drawings of axes and weapons are found in north-
west Spain and occasionally in the British Isles. They were also depicted in
the rock art of Southern Scandinavia. Tools, weapons, and ornaments feature
prominently in the rock carvings of northern Italy and southern France. They
are also depicted on statues (BarWeld and Chippindale 1997). There are more
of these sculptures in the Iberian Peninsula where a few of the same artefacts
are depicted in Schematic Art.
Occasionally the same types of objects were deposited at these sites. In the
Neolithic period a hoard of stone axes are associated with a Breton menhir (Le
Rouzic, Pequart, and Pequart 1923: 6870), and during the Bronze Age a few
pieces of metalwork come from the same sites as rock carvings in north-west
Spain (Commendador 1995: 1223). Such discoveries are uncommon, and
there are other cases in which pictures of individual artefacts or groups of
artefacts might be compared with real deposits. Thus some of the decorated
stelae in the Early Bronze Age of southern Portugal represent the equipment
of a single individual. Their contents are comparable with those of Argaric
Culture graves in south-east Spain (Bradley 1998b). Similarly, the weapons
depicted by rock carvings in Galicia bear a strong resemblance to the contents
of hoards. Even their organization on the decorated surface has a certain
formality, as if it represented a display of trophies; on a smaller scale, the
same is true of the carvings of Early Bronze Age artefacts in England and
Scotland (Bradley 1997a: 1368). By contrast, the rock carvings in South
Scandinavia often show individual artefacts which might be compared with
the single Wnds from bogs and rivers (Malmer 1981: chapter 7; Larsson
1986). Such pictures have played a major role in dating prehistoric petro-
glyphs, but they may also shed some light on how portable artefacts were
displayed. Again it is necessary to move between diVerent media to set these
images in context.
There are also cases in which objects are decorated with motifs that have a
wider frame of reference. One of the clearest examples is provided by the
symbolkeramik of south-east Spain. It has the same repertoire as Schematic
Art (Martn and Camalich 1982). This kind of pottery does occur in settle-
ments, but it is usually found on those enclosed by walls and has a restricted
distribution within these sites. Although the decorated vessels were made in
the same fabric as other ceramics, they may have played a more specialized
role. The same point can be illustrated by examples from other parts of
Europe. The Neolithic pottery of Orkney, for example, has some motifs in
common with megalithic art. In the settlement at Barnhouse such vessels were
among the smallest on the site. Residue analysis shows that they were used
exclusively for the consumption of barley products and may have contained
fermented drinks (Richards 2005: 291). There are further cases in which
images in these media overlap. The horns of cattle feature on Neolithic
pottery in north-west France, and on the reused menhirs built into
passage graves (Cassen and LHelgouach 1992; Le Roux 1992). Similarly, the
distinctive idols introduced into Iberian tombs were often decorated with
what appears to be a woven costume. Towards the end of their history similar
patterns appear on pottery (Lilllios 2002). Such connections are not limited to
ceramics. In Brittany, Wne axe heads, some of them in the form of pendants,
might be deposited with the dead, but they could also be portrayed in passage
graves and allees couvertes. Others were perhaps represented by monoliths in
the open air (Tilley 2004: chapter 2).
The relationship between diVerent images might have been as important as
their individual histories. There are cases in which miniature and monumen-
tal images may be found together, although they are quite rare. One is the
occurrence of similar designs inside Iberian megaliths and on the idols
deposited outside these buildings (Bueno Ramrez and Balbn Behrmann
2006b: 17591). They may have been addressed to diVerent audiences
more people may have been permitted to approach the tomb than were
allowed inside it. A diVerent situation arises in the Cyclades where Colin
Renfrew (1993) suggested that the large unbroken sculptures represented
deities and that the small Wgurines were votive oVerings, destroyed as they
were presented to the gods; but see Renfrew (2008) for another view. Again
the visual links between them provide a clue as to how both groups were used.
Similar arguments apply to the decorated menhirs. Although they are often
found singly, they can also belong to more complex settings in the open air,
for example the stone alignments of north-west France (Lecerf 1999) or the
horseshoe-shaped enclosures in the south of Portugal (Calado 2006). The
same applies to the rows of statue menhirs in the southern Alps (Mezzena
1998). Their arrangement might have emphasized the connections between
the people they represented, or even those between the communities who had
erected them. The same approach can be taken to the sculptures assembled
inside megalithic tombs.
T H E T R E AT M E N T O F T H E I M AG E S
Many of the designs were not static; they underwent changes of various kinds.
Perhaps the most drastic development was considered in Chapter 4. Stone
statues, including some of the oldest in Western Europe, were levelled and
broken up, and sometimes their remains were reused. The reasons for this
transformation are not clear. Although these processes can be interpreted as
iconoclasm, they happen in too many diVerent contexts for this idea to be
entirely convincing. Virtually the same arguments are applied to the Wrst
reused menhirs in Brittany where this interpretation seems implausible
(Cassen 2000), and to Petit Chasseur and Aosta at the very end of the tradition
of megalithic art, where it probably supplies the right answer (Harrison and
Heyd 2007). Moreover, there are similarities between the treatment of the
Wrst monumental images along the Atlantic coastline and the ways in which
small Wgurines were employed in Eastern and Central Europe.
In any case the histories of these statueswhether or not they were
anthropomorphicis not unlike the processes aVecting other images. It is
simply that these changes were eVected on a larger scale and must have
required the participation of a greater number of people. Open-air rock
carvings were just as likely to be reused. In northern Britain it is clear that
pieces of already decorated stone were removed from their original settings
and employed in burial cists. It did not happen by chance, for the motifs
selected for this role were often those with counterparts in megalithic art.
They must have retained their importance for a long time, as it happened after
passage graves had gone out of use. Moreover, when they were taken away the
parent outcrop remained signiWcant, so that newer carvings might take the
place of those that had been removed (Bradley 1997a: 13846). The main
diVerence is that originally the motifs commanded a view over the surround-
ing landscape. In their new setting they were buried under mounds or cairns
and addressed exclusively to the dead.
More often the entire history of a set of carved or painted images was
played out on the panels where they were made. That applies both to surfaces
in the open air and to the designs inside chambered tombs. Three diVerent
processes were important. Firstly, a group of carved or painted motifs could
be extended by the creation of new designs alongside those that already
existed. The older panel was respected although individual elements might
be elaborated or recut. The best examples of this process are found in Britain
and Ireland (Bradley 1997a), but they also occur on sites in north-west Spain
(Pena Santos and Rey Garca 1999) and in the southern Alps. In the latter area
they constitute De Saulieus art discret (De Saulieu 2004). The same applies
to some of the rock paintings in the south of Spain where designs in three
separate styles sometimes respect one another (Fairen Jimenez 2006).
A diVerent process is illustrated by art ostentatoire where the original
designs were disregarded and a new series of images was superimposed.
Among open-air sites that process is most apparent in Alpine rock art
(Frachetti and Chippindale 2002). It is present to a much lesser extent in
South Scandinavia where it seems likely that fresh designs were placed over
speciWc images to alter or emphasize their signiWcance; an example in western
Sweden is the addition of outside human Wgures to existing carvings of boats
(Ling 2008: 146). Similar processes can be identiWed in the treatment of
megalithic art. Panels could be repainted after an interval (Carrera Ramrez
and Fabregas Varcarce 2006), and carvings could be superimposed on one

another, or on the reused pieces introduced to the monuments from outside.
At Knowth, a sequence of overlays has been recognized in the carved decor-
ation (Eogan 1997). Their eVect was to suggest a history in which the oldest
designs were receding into the surface of the stone. The same may apply to the
painted panels at Neolithic and Copper Age rock shelters in Iberia (Martnez
Garca 2006).
The third process is even easier to recognize for it happens where the entire
decorated surface has been pecked or Xaked in order to eradicate the images.
This was certainly the case with some of the menhirs in northern Italy, where
the features of particular statues were destroyed (Keates 2000). The same could
happen at megalithic tombs. At Newgrange and Knowth the superposition of
diVerent designs made the individual panels increasingly diYcult to construe.
In the end some of them were obliterated as large areas were covered by a
uniform layer of picking which had the eVect of enhancing the natural colour
of the stone (Eogan and Aboud 1990). Only faint traces of the original panels
had survived before; now this distinctive treatment concealed them from view.
In every case the important point is the same. Each of the decorated stones
had a history of renewal and modiWcation that could extend over a signiWcant
period of time. Traces of that history were still visible, so that in principle the
people who carved Late Bronze Age or Early Iron Age boats on outcrops in
Southern Scandinavia would have been aware of earlier drawings on the same
sites, the oldest of them extending back for a thousand years. At any one time
only a few motifs might have been newly made, although there is evidence
that certain drawings were recut (Hauptman Wahlgren 2002) and that others
might even have been altered to bring them up to date (Nordenborg Myhre
2004: chapter 6).
A comparable process applies to the comparatively rare geoglyphs: they
could be elaborated, supplemented or eventually hidden from view. Some of
the Scandinavian round cairns illustrate the Wrst possibility, for they were often
constructed over several phases, each of which might be characterized by a
circle, or circles, of boulders. There are examples where the successive rings of
stone might still be visible, and others where they were covered as they were
replaced. A variant of this practice was at Sagaholm, where the decorated kerb
was buried beneath an extension to the barrow (Goldhahn 1999). In the same
way, there are Swedish sites at which concentric rings of boulders of the kind
identiWed as sun symbols were completely buried beneath a mound of Wre-
cracked stones (Runcis 1999). Something similar may have happened at the
passage graves of the Boyne Valley in Ireland, where a few of the monuments
overlay settings of boulders laid out on the original land surface in the same
conWgurations as the carvings in the tombs (Bradley 1998b: 1049).
Similar considerations apply to the Scandinavian ship settings. As Peter

Skoglund has shown, there are cases in which they were eventually buried by
barrows and cairns, and others in which they were exposed on the ground
surface (Skoglund 2005). The examples that were hidden from view generally
occur singly, but the second group often includes several monuments laid out
in relation to one another. Thus round barrows and round cairns may have
been built over a single stone boat, as happened in south-west Sweden and
south-west Norway, while the sites that contain several ship settings occur on
the Baltic coast, and especially on Gotland where groups of vessels seem to
follow the same course across Late Bronze Age cemeteries. Their sizes are
more varied than the other examples, and sometimes they are organized in
pairs (Capelle 1986). Where examples in Norway appear to be travelling in
and out of complex circular monuments, in other cases they may have
been sailing towards them (Nordenborg Myhre 2004: 21721; Bradley and
Widholm 2007). At times the stone ships are even attached to the edges of
these cairns in a manner that recalls the vessels which carry the sun in the rock
carvings of the same period. The cemeteries that feature complex circular
monuments seem to have been used over a lengthy period, and their use could
well have extended into the Early Iron Age (Storm Munch 1998; Wangen
1998). In that respect they resemble the petroglyphs.
Similar considerations apply to the decorated artefacts which may have had
a long history before they entered the archaeological record. There are many
instances in which Wne metalwork had been altered or repaired some time
before its deposition, but metal analysis raises the possibility that other
artefacts were recycled for their metal content when they were taken out of
circulation. Finely crafted objects appear to have been disabled, by damaging
them, breaking them or even exposing them to Wre (York 2002). It was only at
the ends of their careers that certain pieces were employed as grave goods or
votive oVerings. This has been accepted for a long time and underlies the
concept of artefact biographies. In the light of this discussion it seems as if
monumental artworks had an equally complex history
THE CONTEXTS OF THE IMAGES
Images were seldom made in isolation. The accompanied, and even aided, the
performance of particular activities.
Several points need making at the outset. It is rarely possible to show that
images were directed exclusively to a human audience, or even to one that was
alive. Christopher Tilley (2007) has suggested that the complex designs inside
the passage grave at Newgrange were intended to baZe the dead and to keep
them inside their tombs. In that case the images provided protection for the
living. At the same time, the three most complex designs on the kerb were
meant to conceal the actual position of the entrance.
His argument recalls Alfred Gells account of the same monument, quoted
in Chapter 2. It combines two diVerent elements: the hidden art which is
represented by reused stonework; and the sequence of decorated panels
created after the tomb had been built. It is often suggested that the concealed
designs were directed to the occupants of the tomb; these motifs might be on
the backs of the orthostats or masked by successive layers of corbelling in the
chamber (Cochrane 2005 and 2006). The same observations could be
explained in purely practical terms, for the tombs in the Boyne Valley
consumed an enormous amount of raw material which had to be brought
to the site from a source twenty kilometres away. When individual monu-
ments were rebuilt or replaced, it would have been tempting to use the stones
again, especially when the original designs could no longer be seen. Most
examples have been discovered by archaeologists in the course of dismantling
the monuments; during the Neolithic period, the existence of these motifs
may have been forgotten within a few generations. Such a pragmatic approach
to the reuse of raw materials is certainly evident at Stonehenge (Cleal, Walker,
and Montague 1995).
In any case there is evidence that some stones were decorated before they
were incorporated into these monuments, and that others were embellished
once they were in position. Afterwards they could be carved several times,
until the original decorative scheme was obscured (Eogan 1997). That is a
quite diVerent process from the reuse of already decorated material, and
would have created a powerful visual eVect. It is here that Tilleys argument
is more persuasive. It could certainly apply to Newgrange, where there is little
to suggest an overall decorative scheme (OKelly 1982), but it is less convin-
cing at the nearby site of Knowth (Eogan 1986). Here the kerb of the largest
monument includes a series of clearly deWned panels, and the internal dec-
oration does show more signs of order. DiVerent kinds of design are associ-
ated with particular parts of the main passage grave. Although both structures
incorporated reused raw materials, there is a striking contrast between them.
It seems possible that the construction of the main tomb at Knowth was
organized in a diVerent way from the work at Newgrange, and it would be
interesting to know whether these two monuments had been built in se-
quence. Perhaps the people who constructed the principal passage tomb at
Knowth had learnt from the building of Newgrange.
At the same time, the designs at the rear of the chamber at Newgrange may
have been directed to the sun, which illuminates the monument at the
midwinter solstice. It is a moot point whether people were allowed inside the
chamber when it happened or whether this eVect was directed exclusively to
the dead. A similar problem arises with some of the rock carvings in Southern
Scandinavia, for here the images have a dual focus. Some, like the pairs of
footprints, seem to mark the positions of people observing the rising and
setting sun. Other designs were illuminated by sunlight, possibly on the same
occasions. Again it is not clear whether particular drawings were addressed to
the sun as a source of light and warmth, or whether they were meant primarily
for a human audience. At times these interpretations might even be in
conXict. By gathering at the foot of a decorated outcrop people could have
obstructed the movement of light, casting their own shadows across the
drawings. The same problem would aVect the use of megalithic tombs,
where visitors to the chamber could easily block the Xow of sunlight along
the passage. The presence of burnt material inside these monuments suggests
that they were sometimes lit by Xares (Nash 2007). There is comparable
evidence from the excavation of Northern European rock carvings (Bengtsson
2004).
There is another problem. So far the discussion has proceeded on the
assumption that the images on natural surfaces or inside megalithic tombs
were meant to be viewed in the same way as visitors inspect pictures in a
modern gallery. That may not have been true. If the images were often in
shadow, were the Wnished panels the most important element, or were
people more concerned to see them emerging out of the stone while it was
being painted or carved? The question is impossible to answer, but it is
important because diVerent designs were often superimposed. That could
have happened because the images were quick to fade. Only when the surface
of the stone was newly broken were the designs especially easy to identify. The
people who gathered around the base of a decorated outcrop in Scandinavia
may not have been looking at an array of completed artworks; they may have
been more concerned to watch them coming into being. Like those in
megalithic tombs, perhaps the designs had their greatest impact while they
were being formed.
In fact the emphasis on visual images may sometimes be misplaced and
could say more about contemporary viewers of prehistoric art than the people
who encountered it in the past. Maybe it was as important to touch the
images as it was to see them (Lahelma 2008: 5961). That is likely to have
happened in the dark recesses of the chambered tombs. It is also suggested by
the footprints that were carved in South Scandinavia, and by the handprints
that feature in Iberian Schematic Art. The footprints may have played a part
in guiding the movements of people across the decorated surface, in which
case they could be interpreted as a kind of choreography.
Much is made of the distinction between images on vertical rocks and

others that are more or less Xat. It is not always explained by their visual
impact. OVerings can be placed on the designs that were pecked into horizon-
tal surfaces: on steeper slopes they must be placed above or below the designs.
That arrangement is suggested by excavations in Northern Europe (Kaul
2006a). At the same time, the lighting of Wres would have been inXuenced
by similar constraints. They could have burnt at the foot of the rock where
they would cast shadows on the carved and painted panels, or they would
have been higher up the decorated surface where they might have had a
greater impact. On some sites such Wres respected the positions of the
carvings; at others, they destroyed them.
It is often supposed that prehistoric architecture was employed to orches-
trate public ceremonies. Megalithic tombs provide the earliest examples of
this process. Few people would have been able to enter a passage grave
together, while larger groups must have remained outside. These diVerences
might be highlighted by the use of visual imagery (J. Thomas 1992). Thus the
decorated kerbstones at Newgrange and Knowth have a subtly diVerent
character from the designs inside the tombs (OKelly 1982; Eogan 1986).
Similarly the decorated idols placed outside the chambers of monuments in
Spain and Portugal include miniature versions of the images painted or
carved on the walls of some of these buildings (Bueno Ramrez and Balbn
Behrmann 2006b: 17591).
Natural places can have similar properties. A number of the caves and rock
shelters associated with Schematic Art were very small, yet a few examples
have open areas in front of them where deposits of artefacts are found. One
example at El Pedroso took this process even further, for here a decorated cave
had two separate chambers separated from one another by a low passage
(Bradley, Fabregas Valcarce, Alves, and Vilaseco Vazquez 2005). The Wrst was
decorated with cup marks similar to those at settlements, but the small
chamber at the rear of the cave was embellished with the repertoire of
Schematic Art and may have contained a burial. The site was overlooked by
a massive granite outcrop, and in front of it there was a terrace bounded by a
wall. This created a natural arena outside the decorated cave. On excavation it
produced an extraordinary number of artefacts, many of them associated with
the preparation and consumption of food. Apart from the wall, the entire
complex made use of the natural properties of the geology. The summit of the
outcrop was like a stage, raising certain people high above an audience below.
Others were hidden from view inside the cave (Figure 81). The overall eVect
is very similar to that suggested at the decorated cliV on the Norwegian
site of Revheim, but in that case there is quite diVerent evidence for how
the site had been used. Those on the summit would have been able to observe
the sun at the solstices (Vinsrygg 1980). Here the rock carvings are partly
abstract and include a large spiral which a ship is entering or leaving. These
people were completely cut oV from those in front of the outcrop who would
have encountered a diVerent set of images. One group was looking outwards
from the cliV edge. The other was more likely looking at the carved designs
Figure 81. The Copper Age decorated cave at El Pedroso, Spain.

which seem to emerge out of hollows in the rock (Bradley, Jones, Nordenborg
Myhre, and Sackett 2003).
Portable artefacts raise similar issues, although the evidence is seldom so
clear cut. The use of certain artefacts was obviously restricted according to age
and gender: a pattern that is demonstrated by the burial record. Thedeen
(2003) has also suggested that the decorated razors of Bronze Age Scandinavia
were used in life course rituals, and the same may apply to the small personal
items with which they are often associated. Other decorated objects may have
been made speciWcally for burial with the dead. This practice is well docu-
mented at Hochdorf (Olivier 1999): a site which will be considered later in
this chapter.
Even closer comparisons can be made with the displays of personal arte-
facts associated with graves and public ceremonies. In recent years the organ-
ization of prehistoric burials has been studied in a new way. Rather than
treating the contents of a grave as an indication of the wealth and status of the
dead person, scholars have considered who had provided these objects and
how the burial gifts were organized in the ground. They might not necessarily
be the personal possessions of the deceased, so much as an idealized image of
his or her roles in life. They may also have represented the relationships
between the dead and the people organizing the funeral (Bruck 2004; King
2004). In short, the contents of these graves were really a display to be viewed
by the mourners before it was hidden from view.
In the same way, collections of Wne metalwork from deposits like those at
La Te`ne have an increasing number of counterparts on dry land; a few water
deposits have even been excavated by modern methods (Field and Parker
Pearson 2003: chapter 11). Again there seems to have been an emphasis on
display, although there is no indication who was permitted to view such
spectacles and who might have been excluded. It no longer seems as if the
disposal of this material was the most important transactionimpressive as
this may have been. Now it appears that large collections of metalwork,
together with human remains and animal sacriWces, may have been put on
display at certain specialized locations: hill forts, shrines, or even wooden
bridges or causeways (Wells 2007: 4715). There are indications that these
items remained there for some time before they were discarded. It is that
intermediate stagebetween the use of these artefacts by the living and their
role as oVerings to the supernaturalthat had remained elusive until recently,
but now it is being recognized increasingly often. The excavation of Iron Age
sanctuaries provides an indication of the numbers of objects involved (see, for
example, Brunaux, Meniel, and Poplin 1985). It may be that the water Wnds
that have commanded so much attention account for a limited proportion of
the Wne metalwork oVered to the gods. Renewed attention to the material
found on dry land is gradually redressing the balance. The collections of

weapons discovered during recent Weldwork may be equivalent to the draw-
ings of these objects found in rock art. Similarly, the ceremonies that can be
postulated at some of the decorated outcrops had equivalents on other sites
where artefacts are all that remain. They are the Wnds that have dominated
studies of prehistoric art.
A N C I E N T A N D MO D E R N
This chapter began by considering the changing perceptions of ancient images

that resulted from their appropriation by Modernist painters and sculptors.
The associations of these designs were overlooked and their interpretation
was radically curtailed. They were transformed into static artefacts that
oVered visual stimulus and new material for contemplation. In the course
of these changes several elements were lost. The most important are described
by Renfrew as process and display (Renfrew 2002: chapter 3). Both are essential
to any understanding of prehistoric artworks. Paradoxically, they play an
equally important role in contemporary art.
In the examples quoted earlier the term process would refer to the way in
which ancient images were related to processes in the natural world: changes
in the position of the sun; darkness and light; the passage of water; the annual
cycle of the seasons. They determined how and when such images could be
seen and the contexts in which they were put to use. In many cases it was
through the workings of nature that drawings and paintings in the prehistoric
landscape were given life. They were animated by sunlight or running water,
and without them they were inert. It is those features that are ignored when
prehistoric art is assimilated to the Modernist canon. The argument goes even
further. Interpretations of twentieth-century art depend on a complete sep-
aration between culture and nature; the natural world may provide the
subject matter for certain paintings and sculptures, but the galleries where
they are shown are dedicated to high culture. Far from separating culture and
nature, ancient artworks often combine them in such a way that the distinc-
tion is meaningless.
Process is also a useful term to describe the transformations experienced by
ancient images before they reached their present form. They passed through
diVerent stages between their initial production and the ends of their periods
of use. In many cases a rock carving, a painting or a statue menhir was not
made as a Wnished work; it was modiWed, augmented, defaced, and some-
times erased according to particular circumstances in the course of its history,
and often the eVects of that process could be recognized by those who viewed
it. Some panels of rock art may have taken a millennium to achieve their
present form, and only a few images were created at any one time. Similarly,
decorated artefacts might have been altered and repaired, renewed and
even destroyed as they circulated in diVerent contexts during prehistory.
Again a discerning observer could recognize the traces left by those processes,
just as an archaeologist can today.
At the same time, both artefacts and more monumental images seem to
have been displayed. Indeed, there are even petroglyphs which appear to
represent displays of artefacts, like the axe heads shown inside Bronze Age
cists in the west of Scotland, or the hoards of weapons that were portrayed on
rock carvings of the same period in Galicia (Bradley 1998a). Painted and
carved designs were organized in relation to the positions of viewers who may
have needed to move around them in a prescribed order. That was particu-
larly true in the case of decorated monuments. DiVerent kinds of images were
made in diVerent places, so that again it would be necessary to pass between
them in order to appreciate their signiWcance. Rather similar conventions
determined the use of ship settings and round cairns, and the deposition of
metalwork. At times diVerent kinds of material were brought together and put
in show, whether they were the contents of a grave or the components of a
hoard. That was particularly true in the case of great votive deposits like that
at La Te`ne, where the sheer variety of material is as impressive as its quantity
(Reginelli Servais, 2007); and, just as certain people might have been permit-
ted to view these collections and others might have been excluded, certain
objects were appropriate as votive oVerings and others probably were not. The
clearest demonstration of this point is where such deposits have been excav-
ated on dry land, for here it is possible to learn something of how such
displays had been organized.
FIGURING IT OUT
Renfrews book talks of The Parallel Visions of Artists and Archaeologists. What
are those parallels, and how do they extend to the practice of prehistoric
archaeology?
There are many possibilities to consider. There are artists who have been
inspired by the places where archaeologists work, like Paul Nash at Avebury
(Cardinal 1989). Others have been more intrigued by the procedures followed
by archaeologists in the Weld. Thus Mark Dion has based several projects on
the idea of excavation (Coles and Dion eds. 1999).
Archaeologists have sought inspiration in the methods of visual artists. The

excavators of Leskernick in Cornwall wrapped and coloured granite rocks on
the site to emphasize the visual eVects that might have been important in
prehistory (Bender, Hamilton, and Tilley 2007: chapter 13). Renfrew himself
has suggested that the work of Richard Long might provide a model for
prehistorians studying ancient landscapes (2002: 319), and the procedures
used by the Boyle Family who made exact replicas of small areas of the earths
surface are very like those of excavation, with its emphasis on the precise
rendering of colours and textures in the soil. When they originally exhibited
their work they called themselves The Institute of Contemporary Archaeology
(Arts Council of Great Britain 1986).
At times the resemblance between art and archaeology is explained by
personal connections. Some of the leading pioneers in the development of
Weld archaeology in Britain were originally trained in the visual arts, as
painters, photographers, or as architectural draughtsmen. Philip Barker was
perhaps the most famous example, but Mortimer Wheeler was an art student
at the Slade School. Brian Hope-Taylor illustrates the same point, for surely it
was their background in observation and precise documentation that encour-
aged such people to develop new methods in the Weld (Bradley 1997b).
For the most part those are instances of what Renfrew calls the parallel
visions of artists and archaeologists. They reXect his view that contemporary
artespecially abstract artposes similar problems of interpretation to
archaeological evidence, whether it takes the form of stripped surfaces or
the remains of earthworks, landscapes or ancient artefacts. In that sense the
two disciplines can learn from one another, because they oVer a source of
inspiration and suggest diVerent ways of seeing.
There is another approach to the relationship between contemporary art
and archaeology. To what extent do visual artists and archaeologists draw on a
similar body of ideas? Can certain notions developed in the study of art be
applied to prehistoric evidence?
Process and display have their equivalents among contemporary artworks.
Conceptual Art is very much concerned with process, as it is a medium for
presenting ideas, and the processes leading to its creation may be as important
as the Wnal form displayed in a gallery. It is an art that is more concerned with
thought than with appearance, and sometimes it asks questions about the
nature of art itself (Wood 2002).
Installation Art is a more recent development and in some respects it is
related to Conceptual Art, for again it can be the expression of abstract ideas
(De Oliveira, Oxley, and Petry 1994 and 2003; Bishop 2005). In this case the
term is self-explanatory, for here the artworks are not single objects or images,
but complex arrangements of diVerent elements which are often drawn from
the familiar world. It is their combination and juxtaposition that are most
signiWcant. They create self-contained environments that invite the partici-
pation of the viewer as he or she moves around them. There are even examples
which refer directly to the processes of classiWcation and display employed by
archaeologists. Susan Hillers work often refers to the strange assortment of
artefacts in museum collections (Renfrew 2002: 1001).
These are fashionable notions and every year they lead to controversy as the
artists shortlisted for the Turner Prize display their work in London. What is
their connection with archaeology? The objects that archaeologists study had
histories of their own: histories which can be worked out by observing traces
of use and repair (KopytoV 1986). They had a speciWc point of origin, but
often they moved from one location to another. They had also been used in
diVerent contexts before they were withdrawn from circulation.
Consider the Late Bronze Age swords found in the River Thames (York
2002). They were made in distant areas, and some were imported from the
Continent. The raw material was often obtained by melting down other
objects when they went out of commission. The sword blades show evidence
that these weapons had been used in combat, and some had even been re-
sharpened. When their use came to an end, a number were melted down, but
others were deliberately damaged or broken, often with considerable force.
Then they were placed in the water. Museum displays represent only the latest
episode in a lengthy process, but when one of these weapons was deposited
the audience may well have been aware of its history, and the histories of the
people who had used it.
These weapons probably entered the river one at a time, and, as they did so,
their biographies came to an end. This situation is rather diVerent from the
treatment of similar objects at Iron Age shrines in Gaul. At Gournay-sur-
Aronde large numbers of weaponsswords, spears, and shieldswere put on
display around the perimeter of an earthwork enclosure, accompanied by a
large collection of human and animal bones (Brunaux, Meniel, and Poplin
1985). Some may even have been nailed to wooden posts (Figure 82). Those
weapons were not made by the smith as votive oVerings as it is obvious that
they had been used. In fact it is likely that the human remains were those of
people killed in battle. The important point is that, while each object would
have had its own biography, here they were brought together and put on
display. That is a comparable process to Installation Art. The main diVerence
is one of terminology, for archaeologists call such collections structured
deposits.
If there is an overlap between some of the concepts employed by archae-
ologists and those used by contemporary artists, the same point can be
Figure 82. The Iron Age sanctuary and associated deposits at Gournay-
sur-Aronde, France.
illustrated by discussing two artworks which have recently been in the news in
Britain. Here they are compared with two archaeological sites.
The Wrst examples bring together rivers and boats. Not long ago Simon
Starling won the Turner Prize. Among the works he exhibited at the time was a
wooden shed which attracted considerable publicity (Starling 2005: A2A15).
It had an unusual history, and the piece that was on view in Tate Britain was
simply the end result of that process. Its full title was Shedboatshed. It came
about in this way. Starling, who lives in Germany, was cycling along the River
Rhine when he came across a shed which had originally been used as a guard
hut on the Swiss border. He persuaded the owners to let him move it again. He
took it to pieces and rebuilt it as a boat which he paddled along the river to
Basel. There he reassembled the original shed. That is the work that was on
display, but in practice the exhibit shown in London concerned the entire
history of the structure, from its changes of site and its conversion into a boat,
to its reconstruction and, Wnally, its display to the public. Those ideas
however zanyare similar to the biographical approach to ancient artefacts.
As seen in London, Starlings shed was simply a shed. It did it not form part
of a larger installation, and yet it had once been used as a boat. A revealing
comparison is with a more famous vessel: the Migration Period ship burial in
Mound 1 at Sutton Hoo (Carver 2005). Even this famous vessel had a
complex history, for it seems to have been dragged from the River Deben to
its Wnal resting place (Figure 83). There is no reason to suppose that it
was originally constructed as a burial chamberin that sense it was trans-
formed. It also represented the idea of a boat that would convey the dead
person to the Otherworld. Thus the ship was both a practical seagoing vessel
Figure 83. The ship burial in Mound 1 at Sutton Hoo, England.
which could have carried people along the nearby river, and a solid metaphor
for the passage to the Afterlife just like the Bronze Age ship settings discussed
in Chapter 6. Its movement from water to land is not completely diVerent
from the transformation of Simon Starlings shed, although one was con-
ducted with a certain anarchic humour and the other in deadly seriousness.
The ship in Mound 1 at Sutton Hoo was Wlled with rare and valuable
artefacts which would have had their own histories. More than that, individ-
ual items referred to distant places of origin and even to diVerent systems of
belief. They were brought together, laid out in the vessel in a speciWc order
and for a while they would have been displayed to the mourners before the
barrow was built. Even the placing of these artefacts might have expressed
more general ideas, as Franz Herschend has suggested that the contents of
ship burials were organized if they were inside a feasting hall (2001: 6981). If
so, they evoked the idea that this was not just the start of a journey; it was also
a house of the dead that evoked the lifestyle of the deceased. Surely this is what
Martin Carver (2000) has in mind when he compares the burial to a poem, for
its separate elements carried an unusual weight of signiWcance. Since these
ideas were expressed by material forms, an even closer comparison is with
Installation Art.
Simon Starlings Shedboatshed is also a piece of Conceptual Art. A better-
known exhibit in Tate Britain was Tracey Emins bed. This attracted consid-
erable publicity at the time, but in this case it was not necessary to know the
genesis of the display in order to understand its signiWcance.
This is the second example. The work had the simple title My Bed and is
catalogued in these terms as: Mattress, linen, pillows, rope [and] various
memorabilia (De Oliveira, Oxley and Petry 2003: 204). A recent study of
Installation Art is more forthcoming. It says this:
The British artist Tracey Emin exhibited My Bed unmade and rumpled after a
weeks illness, complete with all the paraphernalia she had used in it.. . . . In an era of
superWciality this private and autobiographical emblem of the artists everyday life
was exhibited as an authentic statement about herself and her relationships.
(De Oliveira, Oxley, and Petry 2003: 143)
The result may seem trivial, but the important point is that this is a
carefully contrived display of items of personal signiWcance to Emin. In that
sense it is a means of self-expression of unusual directness. It is not a neutral
representation. The separate items had been selected and arranged to com-
municate with the audience in the gallery. Outside that particular setting they
would not carry the same signiWcance, for it is their juxtaposition in this
unusual installation that expresses Emins theme of human vulnerability.
The second archaeological example features a bed of a very diVerent kind,
for in this case the person lying on it was dead (Figure 84). This is the rich
Late Hallstatt burial at Hochdorf in south-west Germany (Planck, Biel,
Susskind, and Wais eds. 1985). The grave was unusually well preserved and
was excavated to a very high standard. The account that follows refers to the
interpretation of Hochdorf by Laurent Olivier (1999).
The burial chamber was divided into two parts. One contained the corpse,
a man who was laid out on the bed with his possessions. The other part
included a dismantled wagon, accompanied by large vessels for the service of
food and drink. The chamber may have been lined with textiles, and drinking
horns were hanging on the walls. The image recalls that of the Classical
symposium, which is hardly surprising since some of the richest objects
originated in the Mediterranean.
Figure 84. The Iron Age burial chamber and its contents at Hochdorf, Germany.
At the same time, the artefacts at Hochdorf evoked connections with

diVerent places. Some objects were of local origin, but others were exotic
and referred to relationships with people and practices in distant areas. It may
be that some of the exotic items were funeral gifts provided by allies in other
communities. If so, the burial assemblage provided a kind of map of the
political connections of the deceased.
Olivier also refers to the important dimension of time. Some of those
artefacts had long biographies of their own, for they were already worn or
damaged. Others, including the small objects which he takes to be the
possessions of the dead man, were reworked speciWcally for the funeral and
were covered in gold. All this would have taken a long timethe excavator
has estimated three monthsso the remains must have been preserved
somewhere else. It was during this period that the body was Wtted with special
clothes. The construction of the wooden chamber would have taken a signiW-
cant period too, and even when it was Wnished it was by no means easy to
move the funeral gifts into their Wnal resting place. The wagon had to be
dismantled; the great metal vessels would have been diYcult to manoeuvre,
and in any case they could only have been Wlled with liquid after they had
been placed in the tomb. Olivier suggests that, while all this was happening,
the dead man and his accoutrements were displayed to the mourners on
another site.
The important point is that this elaborate burial was not unlike the
complex installations found in art galleries today. It communicated as much
to the living as the dead, and, however brieXy the contents of the chamber
were exposed to view, this was more than an unstructured assemblage of
artefacts. It was an image that would have been understood by the mourners
and recalled by later generations. No doubt that image had more than one
layer of meaning, but it was carefully composed by the juxtaposition and
display of diVerent kinds of objects. Ultimately it was buried under a mound
and became part of prehistoric archaeology.
Perhaps there is room for dialogue between those who practise and study
contemporary art and those who work in archaeology, but the implication of
this discussion is that the link is at the level of interpretationsof ideas. The
past may provide a source of inspiration for artists and archaeologists alike,
but they have most in common when they deal with similar phenomena.
SUMMARY
Like Chapter 1, this chapter began by tracing some of the ways in which
conceptions of prehistoric art were changed as it made the transition from the
ancient world to the modern. It has emphasized certain of the diVerences
between their roles in prehistoric society and their status of works of art in the
present. It has traced a similar process in the translation of ancient images
into twentieth century paintings and sculptures: a process that is precisely
comparable to the treatment of ethnographic art. One way of distinguishing
between such radically diVerent genres was by establishing which features
were most obviously lost in the course of translation.
The outcome is paradoxical. There are many important diVerences between
the roles played by prehistoric artworks and the Modernist paintings and
sculptures which they helped to inspire. On the other hand, the ancient
images had much wider connotations. Their interrelationships are most
important, and so are their histories, the combinations in which they were
displayed, and the performances that must have accompanied their creation
and use. These are all features that have been emphasized by contemporary
artists, few of whom are inXuenced by images deriving from the past. Is it
possible that, quite by chance, Installation Art and Conceptual Art have more
in common with prehistoric archaeology than they do with the dominant
trends in the Modern Movement? It is an intriguing idea with which to end
the book.
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Index
acoustics 45, 70, 209 cairns, in Scandinavia 145, 146, 16671,

aesthetics 279, 45 1802, 185
allees couvertes 60, 64, 73, 76, 83 canoes, decorated 35, 368
Alta, rock carvings at 141 carts, in Scandinavian rock art 134, 15960
altered states of consciousness 657, 120, 207 Cassen, Serge 79, 83, 84
Anatolia, connections with Scandinavia 131 Celtic Art:
Animation, of images 96, 225, 1978 content of 1619
Anthropology, of art 78, 2645 definitions of 1215
antiquities trade 78, 1112 Celts 1213
Aosta, decorated stelae at 915, 97, 217 Chertsey, shield from 38
Art: Childe, Gordon 5
Aboriginal 334, 445, 205 Chirac, Jacques 9, 10
definitions of vivii, 34, 267 choreography 194, 221
discussions in archaeology vi, 1112, 1416 cists, decorated:
ethnographic vii, 710, 26, 233 in Britain 114, 217
figurative ix, 445, 125 in Portugal 215
non-figurative vii, 445, 125 in Scandinavia 1389
Palaeolithic 48, 314, 46 colour, in prehistoric art 38, 45
primitive, see ethnographic Coote, Jeremy 278
semantics of 2934 Conceptual Art 203, 22734
social evolution and 56, 10 context:
tribal, see ethnographic in anthropology 41
art discret 913, 208, 217 in archaeology 414
art ostentatoire 913, 208, 218 Cornaux, Iron Age river finds at 14
Art and Agency viii, 3441, 46, 957 craftwork 67, 1416
artefact biographies 224, 2256 cremation burial 1834
Arts and Crafts Movement 6 Cucuteni-Tripolye Culture 77
cult houses 1467, 148, 166, 184
Barker, Philip 227
Barnenez, megalithic tomb at 84 Daniel, Glyn, 55
Barnhouse, Neolithic settlement at 102, Darwin, Charles, 5
118, 215 Davidson, Hilda Ellis 151
Basse Yutz, Celtic artwork from 212, 41, 42 decorated outcrops, characteristic
Battersea, shield from 201, 38, 41, 42 features of:
Ben Lawers, rock art at 113, 115, 116 colours 45, 109, 110, 208
Bjare peninsula, rock art complex 134 cracks 115, 133, 197, 208
boat burials 146, 22931 mineral veins 133, 197, 208
Borgen, rock carving at 1556, 157 shape 115, 134, 1945
Boyle Family 227 textures 210
Boyne Valley 51, 75, 120, 122, 210, 218 De Mortillet, Gabriel 5, 6
Bra, cauldron from 24 De Saulieu, Geoffroy 913
Brancusi, Constantin 8, 203 Dickinson, Tania 389
Braque, Georges 203 Dion, Mark 226
Breuil, Henri 54 Dover, Bronze Age boat
bucrania 100, 215 from 143
Buraca da Pala, cave painting at 105 Dronfield, Jeremy 68, 69, 71, 118
burnt mounds 170, 1823, 218 drums, Saami 140
258 Index
Eels, depicted on Bronze Age metalwork 153 initiation rites 111, 112, 191
Egypt, relations with Scandinavia 131 Installation Art 203, 22734
El Pedroso, decorated cave at 105, 111, 2223 islands 129, 130, 1412, 165, 173, 1789
Emin, Tracey 231 isostatic uplift 1334, 17780, 187
entoptic images:
in megalithic art 66, 68 Jarrestad, rock carvings and barrows at
in Schematic Art 205 138, 193, 195
Jope, Martyn 15, 16, 1819
fertility, and death 834, 1856
figurines 779, 879, 204, 213 Kalevala 1767, 17980
Figuring it out ix, 203 Kaul, Flemming ix, 12830, 1526, 1635
fire: Keros, Cycladic figurines from 2045
In megalithic tombs 623 Kilmartin, rock carvings at 115, 119
in the Scandinavian Bronze Age 1767, Kivik, decorated cist at 138, 139, 166
1825, 194, 211, 221 Klinta, decorated stone from 1545
Fontijn, David 214 Knowth, megalithic cemetery at 734, 115,
footprints, in Scandinavian rock art 133, 134, 11718, 207, 21821, 222
147, 1601, 1735, 1901, 1957
Fox, Cyril 15, 16 labyrinths 35, 43
Funnel Beaker Culture, decorated pottery 101 La Te`ne, Iron Age sanctuary at 1314, 206,
21213
Gavrinis, megalithic tomb at 80, 81 Layton, Robert 26
Gell, Alfred 3441, 957 Leskernick, settlement excavation at 227
Gelling, Peter 151 Leroi-Gourhan, Andre 313
Gheorgiu, Dragos 79, 90 Levi-Strauss, Claude 30
Gournay-sur-Aronde, Iron Age sanctuary Lewis-Williams, David viii, 6571, 72
at 2289 Liffride, ship setting at 144
Gow, Peter 289 Lillios, Katina 889
grave goods, interpretations of 224, 2313 Long, Richard 227
Greece, connections with Scandinavia 131 the Louvre, as a museum of fine art 910
Grooved Ware 1001 Lubbock, John 5
Gualov, cult houses and cemetery at 183
Gundestrup, cauldron from 225, 41, 42, 46 megalithic art:
acoustics and 70
Hagahogen, Bronze Age barrow at 166 anthropomorphic elements in 535, 64,
Hallunda, settlement and cult house at 184 723, 756
Hasthallen, rock carving at 1923 chronology 557
Hiller, Susan 228 definition 513, 98, 125
Himmelstalund, rock carvings at 134, 141 destruction of the images 220
149, 1713, 1935 distribution 512, 55, 578
Hjortekrog, cairn and rock carvings at 138, organisation of the images 589, 716,
143, 183 847, 222
Hjortspring, Iron Age boat from 12 overlays in 51, 71, 74, 767, 115, 11718,
Hochdorf, Iron Age burial at 224, 2313 1202, 20910, 218, 220
Hogsbyn, rock carvings and cemetery relationship to decorated artefacts 99102,
at 1735, 191, 193, 195 206
Hope-Taylor, Brian 227 relationship to open air rock art 98122
house decoration 356, 1012, 118, 20610 reuse of decorated stone 51
house urns 356 megalithic tombs:
accessibility of 615, 6972, 746, 856,
idols 58, 87, 96, 216 1202, 211
Inside the Neolithic Mind viii, 6572 lighting of 615, 6970, 72
Indo-European mythology 1501 types 51, 56, 5960
Index 259
Megaw, Ruth and Vincent 1415, 16 ring crosses 143, 153, 1612, 172, 193
metalwork: River Bann, bronze disc from 42
decorated 1259 River Guadiana, rock carvings beside 110
deposition of 41, 1824, 195, 21415, 219 rock carvings, Alpine 905, 209
destruction of 219 rock carvings, Britain and Ireland:
hoards of 22, 21415 chronology of 113124
production of 1824 relationship to megalithic art 11722
recycling of 412, 219 siting of 11416, 2078, 214
Milfield, rock carvings at 115 rock carvings, Brittany 103
Miro, Joan 205 rock carvings, Iberian Peninsula:
Mjelthaugen, decorated cist at 138 chronology of 103 5
Modigliani, Amedeo 8, 203 siting of 1035
Mont Bego, rock art on 209 relationship to megalithic art 10910, 112,
Morgan, Lewis Henry 5 21415
Morphy, Howard 26, 27, 29, 205 rock carvings, South Scandinavia:
Musee de lHomme 8, 9, 10 association with fertility 1512, 1856,
Musee du quai Branly 910 18990
association with the dead 151, 1856
Namforsen, rock carvings at 141 compared with Arctic cosmology 13942
Nash, Paul 226 compared with evidence from the
navigation 129, 130, 1412, 1789, 1957 Pacific 130
neuropsychology 657 distribution of 126, 127, 132
Ness of Brodgar, Neolithic settlement at 102 recutting of images in 149
Newgrange, passage tomb at 35, 68, 69, 734, relationship with cairns and
75, 76, 122, 218, 21921, 222 barrows 1379, 1735, 191
Nielsen, Carl 1767 relationship with decorated
metalwork 1313
occuli 99, 105 siting of 135, 1715, 1868
Old Norse religion 151 rock carvings North Scandinavia 13942
r, rock carvings and barrows at 138
O rock paintings, Scandinavia 139
orthostats:
examples with mineral inclusions 96, 98, Sagaholm, decorated kerbstones at 139, 166,
210, 191, 218
shapes of 87, 89, 967, 98, 210 sagas, Icelandic, as a source for Scandinavian
Overing, Joanna 28 prehistory 151
sanctuaries, Iron Age 2245, 2289
Pearce, David viii, 6571, 72 Schematic Art:
Pena Tu, rock carvings and paintings at 90 repertoire of 1056
phosphenes 66, 68, 11819, 205 siting of 1034, 10512, 205, 2078
Picasso, Pablo 8, 203 shamanism 656
plaques, decorated 58, 889, 99100, 101 shields:
Pool, Neolithic settlement at 102 Anglo-Saxon 3840
Pryssgarden, Bronze Age settlement at 136 Iron Age 389, 456
Rannarve, ship setting at 144 ship settings 1427, 149, 16671, 219
Ships on Bronzes ix, 12830, 1524
quartz 45, 208 ships, in Scandinavian rock art 12730, 136,
141, 1434, 151, 1546, 1579, 1623,
razors, decorated 129, 147, 1556, 1845 1715, 1923, 208
Renfrew, Colin ix, 4, 55, 2034, 226, 2278 shorelines, cosmological significance in
Representation in art 445 Scandinavia 1334, 135, 1412, 1625,
Revheim, rock carvings at 1345, 195, 209, 166, 16871, 1767, 1801, 1868
2224 Sibelius, Jean 1767
Rig Veda 150 Sion, decorated stelae at 915, 217
260 Index
symbol stones, Pictish 43 Table des Marchand, megalithic tomb of 80,
Skara Brae, Neolithic settlement at 102, 81
10910 Tagus Valley, rock art in 10910, 214
Snackedal, stone settings at 16871, 181 Tain Bo Cuailnge 24
solar orientations 60, 61, 72, 74, 76, 21112 Tanum, rock carvings at 125, 133
solstices, significance of 61, 72, 74, 209, 211 Thracians 24
Starling, Simon 22931 Trobriand Islands 36
statue menhirs, see stelae Trundholm, Sun Chariot from 152, 153,
stelae: 160, 161
Alpine 935
Brittany 7983 Unneset, rock carvings and cairns at 138
gender associations of 812, 83 Unstan bowls 100
Iberian Peninsula 847 Urnfield Culture 129
with weapons 8990, 915
Stonehenge 220 Vila Nova de Sao Pedro, fortified settlement
Stone settings: at 99
Alpine 956, 97, 209
Breton 57, 84, 216 water:
in Alentejo 57, 84, 216 as focus for votive deposits 1314, 1921,
Scandinavian 1427, 149, 16671, 223, 38, 412, 127, 134, 1945, 206,
218, 219 209, 21213, 214, 2245, 228
Stjrdal, rock carvings 134 relationship to Scandinavian rock
streams and Scandinavian rock art 1345, art 1334, 149, 1735, 208
136, 141, 1713, 1867, 1978, 208, 209 water birds 42, 213
structuralism 301 weapons:
sun symbols in Scandinavian rock art 128, carvings of 8995, 125, 133, 1356, 1713,
1526, 1612, 1715, 1879, 1923, 213, 215, 226
1957, 209, 211, 2224 paintings of 1056
Sutton Hoo, ship burial at 22931 wheel cross, see ring cross
Symbolkeramik 99, 215 Witham, shield from river 38, 456

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I M AG E A N D AU D I E N C E

Frontispiece. Carvings of ships and animals at Himmelstalund, Sweden. As in other

approaches to prehistory and some of the concepts employed by contempor-

PART I. THE PROBLEM WITH PREHISTORIC ART

PA RT I I . I M AGE AND AU D IENC E IN MEGA LITH IC A RT

PA RT III. IMAGE AND AUDIENCE IN BRONZE

PA RT IV. PREHISTORIC ART AND ARCHAEOLOGY

Bronze Age rock carvings at Himmelstalund, Sweden ii

1. The frequency of diVerent artefact types classiWed as Celtic art in

It remained for Colin Renfrew to oVer another deWnition, but, he warned,

Nineteenth-century discoveries of what has become known as Palaeolithic art

was no objection to the discovery of sophisticated paintings and carvings

One way in which nineteenth-century researchers were able to come to

ART A ND THE EXOTIC

MUSEUMS A ND THE FIRST ARTS

Recently these problems have assumed a new prominence. This is most

LATER PREHISTORIC ART I N EUROPE

THE CASE OF CELTIC ART

CELTIC ART AND LA TE` NE ART

If one problem in discussing prehistoric art is deciding which material comes

Figure 1. Iron Age shield from the River Thames at

Figure 2. Bronze Xagon from Basse Yutz, Moselle.

Figure 3. The Gundestrup Cauldron.

found in a pit at Bra. The example from Gundestrup is particularly remark-

NAMES AND DEFINITIONS

It seems as though archaeology acquired a category of prehistoric art through

1996 saw the publication of an unusual book, Key Debates in Anthropology,

1992). He argues that a basic notion of aesthetics is shared by quite diVerent

Levi-Strausss work is less fashionable today, but it had a direct influence on

Figure 4. The distribution of Upper Palaeolithic paintings of animals in the French

Figure 5. Upper Palaeolithic paintings at Ekain, illustrating the division between

Rosenfeld 1967)it was a project which brought together the perspectives of

with human remains. Because of that association Morwood could suggest a

Figure 7. A Trobriand decorated canoe prow and its interpretation.

Figure 8. Paired dragons on the Iron Age shield

Figure 9. Decorated attachment on an

in their original contexts. The Wrst concerns their ostensible functions:

PRESENTATION AND RE PRE SE NTATION

Archaeology suVers from certain limitations compared with social anthro-

art change according to the composition of the audience (Morphy 1991).

MEGALITHIC ART: A R EADERS GUIDE

This chapter provides a brief overview of two related phenomena: megalithic

Figure 11. The sites and regions discussed in Part II.

Figure 12. Outline distribution of

MEGA LITH IC E NQUIRIE S

developed independently in a number of diVerent regions, but this view has

megalithic art. There is an obvious distinction between the non-Wgurative

that reason it would be wrong to suggest that both groups of monuments

ACC ESSIBL E ARC HITE CTURE

Figure 15. The Portuguese passage grave of Anta de Cerqueira.

designs on the walls would appear to be in motion (Nash 2007). Particular

Lewis-Williams and Pearce provide an interpretation that should apply to all

Figure 21. Phosphenes apparently associated with megalithic art.

Figure 22. The entrance stone at Newgrange, Ireland.

form. That is because it could have developed independently in several parts

DISCUSSION: THE ART GALLERIES OF THE DEAD

So far this account has drawn attention to a set of contrasting relationships

designs placed in secluded locations, they had to be accessed by a passage.

The passage graves of northern Portugal had a relatively simple structure

concealed, or had been partly defaced as one design was superimposed on

It is curious that some of the smallest three-dimensional images in prehistoric

Gheorgius argument is strengthened by his analysis of the Wgurines asso-

Figure 24. Ceramic Wgurine of the Cucuteni-Tripolye